


Castiel's [extra] Friendly Neighbor

by BrandiChampane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Gardener!Cas, M/M, innocent!cas, pornstar!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandiChampane/pseuds/BrandiChampane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a post on tumblr. Cas is a good man with morals until he moves across the street from Dean.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The tempest

Castiel shuffled the few boxes he owned in his new kitchen. His new home was not large, nor luxurious, but it fit his needs. It is a one story home, one bedroom, one, very small, bathroom. A living room built for a hermit, but the kitchen made for a chef. Whoever owned this home before him had replaced most of the kitchen equipment and added a row of strikingly clean counters. He has never been one for cooking much but figures he could try. The walls were bare and he considers painting them before setting the furniture up. It means navigating through this new town to a hardware store. The thought makes him nervous. Perhaps he should ask a neighbor for directions. That thought makes him more nervous.  
He is a grown man though; this is not his first time living on his own so he should be able to perform simple tasks such as asking directions. However, this is new to him; this is the first time he has been out of his home state, the first time he does not already know the neighbors by name. The friends in his old neighborhood understood his quirks, never batting an eye if he strolled through the neighborhood with a bible tucked under his arm on the way to church. Not that he is not proud of his religion, he just does not enjoy being mistaken as the type to shove his religion down other’s throats. The repercussions of being faithful are trying at times but he hopes that if he stays out of other’s matters that they will stay out of his in turn.   
This is much different from the home he is accustomed to. He already has to discover new ways to assert who he is without being misinterpreted. He slouches into a chair set against the far wall of the kitchen. He rolls his eyes at the walls and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. Sooner or later he is going to have to extend a hand to his neighbors, sooner he decides when he hears the ring reverberate from his living room.   
Castiel straightens his tie and walks to the door, peeking through the window, and opens it. Before stands a man, much taller than him, with a smile so innocent it makes him smile in return. The man is wearing work style boots and has a few stains on his shirt, a mechanic he assumes.   
“Hi, I’m Dean Winchester, your new neighbor.” He shuffles a covered dish to one hand and extends the other. Castiel, taken aback by the cheery welcome, clears his throat before speaking.  
“Oh, hello,” he shakes the hand before him. “I’m Castiel, is that pie?” Castiel tilts his head to get a good look at the pastry. He has only been living in his new home for a total of three hours, wonder fills him that this man has already had time to bake a pie.   
“Uh, yeah. I wasn’t sure if you had lunch or anything yet, but who doesn’t love pie right?” He extends the dish. “My brother’s, Sammy’s, fiancé baked this earlier and thought I should bring it over, a sort of warm welcome. A little hospitality never hurt anyone I guess.”  
Castiel nods in agreement and reaches to take the dish from him, Dean almost looks reluctant to let it go. He looks around the living room, most of the furniture is sitting where he originally placed them, there is no real place for them yet and Castiel almost feels embarrassed, but then again it only has been a few hours and the walls need taken care of first. He invites Dean in anyways; the man brought him pie after all.   
Dean shuts the door and takes in the view before dropping his eyes to Castiel. “Love what you’ve done with the place.” He laughs.  
A joke? Castiel smiles, he is glad Dean makes it so easy to be comfortable. He has never been one for making socializing easy, or so his family tells him. He sets the pie in the kitchen and comes back to find Dean going through a collection of his books. Various copies of the bible along with stories he read as a child with strong Christian morals interlaced in the text. He can feel his cheeks warm and covers it with a cough that does not deter Dean from his rummaging.  
“Actually, I wanted to pick up some paint, kind of give some life to these walls. I am not sure where the hardware stores are located, unfortunately.” Castiel figures he might as well take advantage of the opportunity while he can.  
Dean drops a children’s book back into the bin and turns to him smiling like the devil himself. “Well, luckily I know just where they are, let me drive you.”   
\--  
The drive to the hardware store is short but Castiel feels like he cannot get out of the Impala sooner. Dean’s driving is impeccable, careful not to hurt his baby. The music however is grating to Castiel’s ears, he tries to block out the noise and focus on the turns and streets, so he can learn to navigate the neighborhood himself.   
Dean points to his favorites spots, The Roadhouse is apparently the best diner the town has to offer with the best bacon cheese burgers Castiel will ever eat. His stomach rumbles at the thought, if all goes well he will treat Dean to a burger for helping him he thinks. The next location Dean points to is what appears to be a junkyard. Dean tells him it is prettier on the inside and the best damn auto shop in town, Castiel silently prays his car never breaks down. The final location Dean points out his a lake, a beautiful light in a small town that Castiel can only stare at. There are wildflowers growing around it, along with cattails and lily pads resting in the water. The sun makes the ripples glimmer like stars. Castiel thinks it is a shame it is so abandoned, he thinks he could spend hours resting on a bench just observing. He takes mental note of the intersections it rests on.   
When they finally reach the hardware store, the largest building the town has to offer on account of how many houses need renovating, Castiel has sufficiently tuned out the music. The Impala comes to a less than graceful stop that makes Castiel lurch foreword. He thanks God when he finally plants his feet on solid ground and the ringing in his ears subsides.   
Dean leads the way, navigating flawlessly through rows and rows of shelves lined with various woodcuttings and doorknobs and everything a carpenter needs. Castiel almost walks into Dean’s back when he finally stops before a wall of paint chips. He squints at the different colors before stepping aside to let Cas view as well.   
“You know, I don’t really know anything about colors so this is where my help kinda ends I guess.” He rubs the back of his neck and casts a sideways glance at Castiel.  
“I am not so sure either.” He squints hard at the colors as if the power of osmosis can reveal the perfect color. “I’m thinking something blue, pale ,maybe.” He picks up a swatch labeled robin’s egg. “For the kitchen, to match the counters.” He picks up another one, a sea foam green. “For the bathroom maybe,” he says to no one in particular, turning it around to check for a price. “Maybe a beachside design.  
“You an interior decorator?”   
Castiel picks up another swatch. “My mother was. I learned a few things being around her, she liked themes so I think that’s what I’m going to do.” Castiel feels he should be embarrassed for the admission, but that does not stop him from contemplating a theme for the living room, something to match the furniture he already owns. Unfortunately, all of his furniture is white which he does not want to contrast with a loud color. No, the living room should allow him to relax, not want to run a marathon. He settles for an off shade of white, it matches the carpet anyways. When he is done he holds four separate swatches for the various rooms in his house, all soft colors he is sure will work nicely.  
Dean helps him carry the paints and set them in the trunk of the impala. When the car finally settles in his driveway Dean runs to grab old newspapers and tarps from his house, the keep the carpets clean he insists. Castiel is thankful; he had not even contemplated that. The paint buckets are stationed in their assigned rooms while Castiel waits for Dean to return. He sets about unpacking what boxes he can, placing dishes in the appropriate cupboards along with silverware. That is one less task to worry about and Castiel prides himself in being productive and quickly resigns it when he thinks of what his mother would say about pride.   
Dean comes in without knocking, arms full of different materials that can spare being splashed with paint. They decide the easiest room to start on is the bathroom, it is smaller and would take nearly no time all considering one wall is covered in tile to accommodate the shower. Next, Castiel wants to finish his bedroom, the quicker he can set the furniture up in here the better he decides. When the work is done they rest in the living room. It is getting late and Castiel has yet to buy Dean a burger in thanks. Dean is stubborn at first, but finally concedes when Castiel mentions a slice of pie when they return.  
\--  
Dean is teased by the waitress, Ellen, when she takes their orders. Castiel admires their closeness and is comfortable to just sit back and watch while they chat. Ellen is the woman who makes the best burgers, Dean informs him which earns him a playful slap on the shoulder. Ellen remarks that no amount of sweet-talking is going to earn him a recipe, something they must have discussed long before Castiel moved in.   
“You two are close,” Castiel states when Ellen has walked away.  
“Yeah,” Dean coughs a flush creeps up his neck. “She uh, she’s like a mom to me. Ever since- you know.” He rubs the back of his neck.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”  
“Oh no, no it’s fine man, really. It’s not like you wouldn’t find out sooner or later, town like this everyone knows everything.”  
Castiel nods in agreement unsure of what to say next.  
The conversation over the next half hour is stilted while they wait on their food. A bunch of stop starting of topics not worth discussing in length. Eventually a man, with a mullet of all hairstyles, sets their plates before them raising suggestive eyes in Dean’s direction. Dean stills and gives a small shake of his head before taking a large bite of his burger. Ash, Dean later tells him, gives a small salute before walking back to the kitchen. Castiel seems to have missed a whole conversation, which he loses interest in when he takes the first bite of his burger.  
Hot cheese runs over his fingers making him drop it quickly to wipe his hands. He wonders if Dean is made of titanium as he watches cheese run down his own hands. Dean laughs around a bite of burger at his display of bravado and Castiel decides then that he is going to prove himself but winces when another bit of cheese rolls down his hand. Dean sets his own down and swallows before speaking.  
“Dude, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Wrap the half in a napkin, it’ll keep it off your hands.”  
Castiel is still trying to make sense of Deans words when Dean reaches over to show him by carefully tucking two napkins around the bread and guiding Castiel to hold it around the covered part. This is not the impression Castiel wanted to make on his first possible friend and mentally kicks himself.   
“Don’t worry, Sam was the same way the first time he ate one of those. After years of eating them you just sort of get used to them and expect Ellen to pack ‘em to the nines.”  
Castiel nods and continues to eat quietly, it really is as delicious as Dean says.  
\--  
When Castiel retires for the night he finds it easier to sleep than he anticipated. The day’s events have worn him out so slipping into the covers has him falling asleep already. He does not rest long before he is waking to a nightmare of someone breaking into his home. Even if it was just a dream, Castiel still slips on a pair of sweatpants and walks down the steps to check the locks to find each one secure. The clock on his nightstand reads three twenty-three when he lays back beneath the covers.  
He is already awake though, unable to sleep again, and groans when he slips into the kitchen. The newspaper beneath his feet makes a crinkling noise that grates against his already-forming migraine. He nearly stumbles over a can of paint and decides that today is not his day. The coffee pot takes longer than he would wish to set up and tastes of grounds at the first sip. He grumbles but decides against wasting it, something his mother taught him while growing up.   
He starts about washing the plates him and Dean used to eat their pie last night, just after Dean drove him to the nearest grocery store to stock the fridge. They planned on painting the kitchen and living room today and Castiel wonders what time Dean gets off work. He does not start at his new position at The Garrison, a small paper printing industry, for another couple of days. The main reason for his move was when Zachariah, his boss, offered him a promotion that meant living in the same state as the headquarters. Who would think it would be stationed in small town in Kansas? Zachariah had muttered something about it being started here before sending him on his way.   
Castiel enjoys his job, truly. He gets to sit in a plush chair while making phone calls and sitting in front of a computer all day. The amount of social interacting he did, as a salesperson, was never difficult in Castiel’s eyes. Now, he will be in charge of far more information, as well as his own team of salesman that will have to report to him when a task needs taken care of or, God help him, something goes wrong. He will take the tasks as they come he decides, being too early to think in depth of scenarios and their consequences.   
He realizes that he has no idea what to do with his day until Dean shows to help him paint. Perhaps finish unpacking his clothes, set up a few trinkets in his room, but that will be done long before Dean returns. He does not want to settle the furniture in the living room or kitchen yet in fear of ruining them. He sighs and finishes off his coffee before retreating to his room to change into his jogging clothes. He might as well scan the borders of the neighborhood and no better way than to kill two birds with one stone.   
The night air is light against his skin, makes him shiver. He starts up a light jog to fight the cold. In no time he is reaching the end of the street and crosses over to the other side, the street Dean lives on. He wonders what he is doing, if he is sleeping well. He mentioned his brother staying with him and Castiel wonders what he is like. The streetlight above him flickers and sets an uneasy roll in his stomach. He knows it is most likely a power shortage, or misfire of electricity but cannot help but be off put by it. He curses his squeamish nature and powers through his jog until he is crossing the road and heading back towards his home.   
He stops to take a breath at the path to his door. The street was short so he thinks about taking another lap before he hears the rustle of trashcans nearby. Something like bottles clink against plastic and Castiel notices a streak of light swaying behind him. Someone is walking with a flashlight and, is that Dean? Why would he be taking out trash so late at night?   
Dean’s stumbling comes to a stop, he looks something like a deer caught in headlights and offers a sheepish smile accompanied with a wave is Castiel’s general direction. When Dean continues walking again, sloppy and uncoordinated, Castiel thinks it is safe to assume that he is drunk. His eyelids droop so he probably has not slept yet, he thinks. Castiel has never had alcohol himself leaving him uncomfortable when Dean crosses the road and turns off his light.   
There is a moment where Dean trips over the curb before dramatically lifting his feet to step over it. Castiel catches his arm to help support him before Dean decides to sit on the grass instead. It is easy now that he does not have to support his weight but Castiel worries when Dean’s eyes droop closed. Castiel tapes his shoe against Dean’s knee and earns a hum in response.  
“Dean, you’re going to fall asleep on the sidewalk. What are you doing up this late anyways?”  
“What are you doing up this late?” Castiel sighs because he should have expected that.  
“I couldn’t sleep. It seems I haven’t settled into this new home yet, you?”  
Dean opens an eye in his direction, trailing up and holding steady at Castiel’s collar. “I got a fetish for morning joggers. It’s the sweat I think, doesn’t help that they’re so good looking either.” He shuts his eyes again.  
Castiel knows it is another joke but that doesn’t help the uneasy roll in his stomach. What Dean is referring to is immoral and though he is all for equal opportunity he still feels uncomfortable in his skin. He can almost hear his mother’s words of guidance ringing in his ears.   
“Dean, we need to get you home before you fall asleep out here,” he begins to lift Dean up beneath his armpits but it is difficult to keep his grip the way Dean swings his arms. He opens his eyes again but shuts them almost immediately groaning in pain.   
“You know, I mean that man, you’re good looking, jogging is really working out.”  
Castiel brushes off the compliment and continues guiding Dean in the direction of his house. His steps are messy thanks to Dean’s uneasy feet.  
“I have seen a lot of pretty men in my day,” he whistles at the thought. “I mean I have even been in movies with these pretty little things, but you got a face that can challenge. It’s those eyes I think.” He lolls his head to the side to get a good view of Castiel’s face.  
Castiel stops sharply to keep from fumbling them both to the ground when Dean’s feet stop moving. His eyes are wide and he is looking to the ground with something sad in his eyes. Castiel runs over the last of his words and shifts the way he is holding Dean. Something about being in movies, was he an actor? Why would he stop? Castiel never got into to movies as a child, too much sex and violence his mother scolded, so it makes sense he would not know Dean by face and name.   
“Why would you quit acting?” the words roll off before he can catch them and he feels bad when Dean signs heavily and sags his weight against him.   
“Not those kind of movies pal.” Dean shoves off, trying to reclaim his dignity but has trouble stepping back down the curb which mean Castiel has to catch him again. Dean’s knees have already buckled when he reaches him and they both land on the asphalt with a hard thud. Castiel winces when he feels what will be a sure bruise. Dean is on his hands and knees trying to push himself back up and stops when his body refuses to work.  
Castiel huffs and pulls at him again to get him up. This man is going to kill him on his first night in a new neighborhood. Dean settles against him, giving up completely to rub a sore spot on his elbow.   
“Nah, man,” he continues. “I was in a porno, a couple actually. Is how Sammy got into Stanford and how I got that house.” He points and winces at the stretch of his arm. “I was good at it too, famous even. Once I got enough money I stopped though. You can only be the pretty boy getting fucked by strangers for so long.”   
Castiel stills beside him and casts him a wary glance before schooling his emotions. These are statements Dean probably would not tell him under normal circumstances and he does not want to hold these omissions against him. But he would be lying if he said it did not make him uneasy. Castiel has never had sex, not because he is afraid to, being a part of a conservative family does not scream ladies man. He has never had occasion, nor has he found a girl he would like to settle down with yet.   
“Dean, stop talking.” Castiel gets a firm grip on Dean’s waist before slinging him over his shoulder. He may not have as much muscle as Dean, but he needs to get Dean home. Get back inside and shower off the dirty thoughts trapped under his skin. Dean just grips into his t-shirt and hangs on until Castiel drops him on his porch. He rings the doorbell and makes a retreat to his home.   
He does not reply when Sam shouts his thanks across the road, he shuts the door, locks it and unceremoniously tosses his clothes in a clothesbasket before stepping into the shower. The water is hot to the touch but he continues cleaning, pointedly avoiding one area on his body. He hisses when he brushes against it and denies the way it feels. He reminds himself that masturbation is wrong and shuts off the shower after rinsing his hair.   
For the next hour, he unpacks clothes, rearranges his room, and definitely does not think of Dean Winchester. He is sleep deprived and worn down by the end of his task though and the thoughts slip in more easily. He cannot say that Dean is gay, but he certainly is not straight and he is attracted to Castiel. He himself has never had a crush on anyone. He admired a girl, Meg, in high school but that crush was quickly thwarted when his father caught wind of it, sitting him down for the talk. The STDs his father talked about he stopped thinking about sex for years.  
Now, someone was showing signs of interest. Dean may be another male but, Castiel has to admit he has some beautiful features. The way his lips puckered and those green eyes. Castiel banned the thoughts before they could settle in his chest but he was already getting hard again. He needed a distraction.  
In a lonely box beside his bed, Castiel found his laptop. He would not be working for another few days but at the least he could check up on the company he is assigned to. Better he know their shipping statistics now rather than walk in blindly. He hummed to himself while he typed in the company’s name into the search bar. In no time he was updated on what he needed to know and it had only been a few minutes. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to think of something else he could do.  
An insistent thought rolled in his head and before he knew it he was typing Dean’s name into the search bar, just to be sure it is true he told himself. If the search comes back negative he can rest easy knowing none of it was real. In a few seconds he was proved wrong, before him sat the titles of four films featuring Dean on the cover, each with previews displaying Dean in various positions. Castiel’s eyes got so wide he thought they might fall out of his head, and they should he thought. No righteous man would be caught dead looking at such images.  
The thought does not stop his hand from clicking on the play button though. He quickly slams his finger on the button when the sounds of moaning break through his speakers. His heart beats so fast he thinks it will jump out of his skin. He should exit out of the window, forget what he saw and carry on with his day, maybe say a few prayers but his finger hits mute and then play and Castiel loses every moral as soon as Dean shuts his eyes and grinds against the burly man behind him.  
Castiel has never been as attracted to a male as he is right now and he knows he is going to hell when he palms against his jeans. No one can save him now, he thinks when he clicks on the second preview. Dean is riding on another man is this one and Castiel’s cheeks flush at how innocent Dean looks. The same innocence he had when he first showed up at Castiel’s door. The sun is rising by the time he finishes the last video and it is becoming painfully hard to ignore his own erection.   
With as far as he has gone he is not sure what more damage masturbating can do but he does not want to press his luck. He bites his lip and shuts the computer down. He shifts in place on his bed and tries to think of anything, everything to become flaccid again. Bees, bugs, old women, old men, but the image of Dean flush and fucked out still lingers in his mind.  
He sighs and begins to reach a hand in his pants when the doorbell rings. Not now he thinks. Especially if it is Dean standing there. He cannot look at him now, not after what he has done, was about to do. He curses him when the doorbell rings again. Castiel stands and lets out a frustrated sigh when his erection stands with him.  
He clambers down the stairs uncomfortably and mentally wills his partner to disappear. He would say a silent prayer but he thinks better of it. Dean is standing outside his door and Castiel become desperate. He has only dealt with this as a teenager, when his hormones acted out on their own, now he his a grown men and grown men do not talk to other grown men with boners. Especially when those particular grown men are the ones who caused it. He mentally kicks himself and opens the door crossing his legs in an awkward stance.  
“Dean, hi, uh how are you feeling?”  
Dean groans and gives an apologetic look. “Hung over. I, uh, wanted to say thanks for getting me home last night and apologize. I know I probably said some strange things sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Dean rubs the back of his neck and keeps his eyes on the spot behind Castiel’s head. There is a tinge of pink on his cheeks.  
“No problem. A few scrapes are worth making sure you return home safely.”   
“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs and takes a step back. “Well, I gotta head to work. I’ll see you, to finish painting if you’re still up for it.”  
“Of course. I’ll see you later.” Dean is gone long before Castiel shuts the door.  
He slinks to the floor of his living room and wonders when he became so sinful, so lustful. His mother would have his ass for this sort of behavior but maybe, maybe that is what growing up is about. Learning, making his own choices. He whispers an apology in her regards and unbuttons his pants not bothering to move from his spot on the floor.  
\--  
Castiel has never had such an uncomfortable conversation in his life and finds refuge in drying paint. Dean is more quiet than yesterday and Castiel kicks himself for being so rude. It is so hard when he has those eyes and that mouth and Castiel is such a virgin that it is as if he body is just calling out to Dean, screaming take me.   
Castiel tries his best not to show his discomfort but once the final wall is coated in paint and Dean sits down to eat a piece of pie he is gone. Dean keeps licking his fingers and the fork and it is just not fair. Satan is toying with him, he has to be. He tries to think of something awful he did in his past to result in this walking sin before him and comes up empty. Dean catches him staring in the corner of his eye and pushes his pie away. Something twinkles in his eye that Castiel is sure he should be afraid of.  
“So, let’s talk.” Dean grins and folds his hands in his lap.  
“Uh, sure.”  
“You looked me up didn’t you?”  
“What?” Castiel chokes, so caught off guard. “No, what?”  
“C’mon Cas, I know that look. I can see it in those pretty blues of yours. Same look I get from old pervs in the bar on a Saturday night. They wanna ask but God won’t let ‘em. So they sit, they stare, and you know what? I kinda like it, let’s me know they enjoyed the show.” He rests his arms on the back of the couch and shoots him a shit-eating grin. “Don’t lie to me Cas.”  
Castiel can feel the heat on his cheeks when he stands to takes their plates to the kitchen. He does not want to talk about this, especially after what he did when Dean left. Castiel has never done that before, he was so good until now. Dean is just…unholy, and God help him he is a piece of fruit Castiel is dying to taste.  
“Hey, don’t think too hard about it. It’s fine, everyone does it when I tell them. They want to know if I’m lying, I get it. It’s cool.” He sounds concerned, Castiel knows why when his hands start shaking, and he almost drops both plates. Dean stands closer and Castiel can feel his heart stop.  
“Dean.” He does not know what he wants to say. What he should say. Should he apologize? Recite the bible? Tell Dean to take him right here, right now, before he regains will power and loses his chances forever. He does not say anything, just stares at his own hands as if they are foreign to him.  
“Dean, I think you should leave.” Cas does not look over his shoulder when he says those words, he cannot see the look on Dean’s face when they roll through the air and bite him.   
“Cas, look we can just ignore it all right. Pretend I never said anything.” Castiel can feel a hand on his shoulder before he shrugs it away. Dean is personified sin and he tried not to hold it against him but now he is doing things he would never do.   
“Dean please, just-I need you to leave.” The words feel like bullets flying out of his mouth striking Dean down. Castiel is not responsible for hurt Dean may or may not be feeling, he has sins to repent for and the first step is removing the serpent from his garden. He repeats it like a mantra until he hears the click of the door and Dean is finally gone.


	2. Lay it on the Altar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have longed for sweet peace,  
> And for faith to increase,  
> And have earnestly, fervently prayed;  
> But you cannot have rest,  
> Or be perfectly blest,  
> Until all on the altar is laid.  
> -Is your all on the altar  
> (this isn't supposed to be a very religious fic, when I actually attended church this was a hymn actually enjoyed and I think it fits the chapter, that's all)

On Sunday morning, Castiel wakes up early. He puts on his suit, straightens his tie, and ties his wingtips. This morning’s breakfast is coffee accompanied by a piece of fruit. He still has half an hour before he has to get into his car and drive to church. The printed out map quest sits on his table and he studies it, reviews it until he knows the path by heart, eyes shut and walking blind. When he leaves his house, he does not look across the street and he does not think about Dean.  
Castiel is mending, repairing his tainted morals. No longer will he be the tempted for he is a righteous man and will live up to his M.O. He clutches his bible to his chest and recites a prayer before pulling out and driving down the road. Today the sky is fog covered from last night’s rain, there are birds chirping nearby and the sun struggles to push past the clouds. Cas enjoys days like this, so simple and calm he is sure he will sleep easy tonight.  
The church he pulls up to is small, barely large enough to hold fifty people. Castiel prefers being around less people, after his last social experience he is sure he can wait before trying to make friends. Even in a building of devout, there could still be a wolf amongst these sheep, Castiel should know. He feels like the fishers hook disturbing a resting school of fish. Castiel lets out a breath and pushes past the doors into the church. The pews in the back are empty, a perfect place to sit.   
The reverend is standing at the podium talking cheerfully to a young man at his side. The microphone is on and Cas can catch the soft whispers of his voice. The young man is holding a hymnal that leads Castiel to infer that he will lead in song. In this church there is no choir, or rather the patrons are the choir. Castiel rests against the pew and continues to watch the people buzzing around him, they are smiling and chatting amongst themselves. Castiel is reminded of home, he wonders if his mom would like it here, if she would sing during the special songs. If he focuses, he can hear her singing his favorite hymn.  
Eventually, the people settle and find their places on the pews. The front rows are crowded with children who continue to whisper even after the reverend speaks his good morning. Beside him sits a sheepish looking boy who quickly removes a cap from his head when he gets an eyebrow raise from the women across the aisle. He folds his hands in his lap and tries to concentrate on them, ignoring the glares he is continuing to get. Castiel thinks it is good that someone so young is here; following the path early will help him live right later on.  
The younger man beside the reverend takes his stand at the pulpit and asks if everyone can please turn to page 325. The books are different here but the song Castiel is familiar with so he wastes no time standing and singing with the others. Once the song is over, he sits and watches the reverend reclaim the pulpit. He guides them to a verse, reads it aloud, and says a small prayer. Castiel is also familiar with the verse because he repeated it to himself when Dean left. He flinches when the man’s voice booms over the speaker about sexual deviancy.   
The words slice like daggers in the back of his mind; they are reminders of his own fallacies. The boy beside him glances his way but looks straight ahead when Castiel catches his eye. Castiel reads more of the passage as the reverend continues to preach. All of the verses are words he knows all too well and it only makes the shame grow in the pit of his stomach. He deserves this punishment for falling off the path. Before the congregation lets out, they sing a song of forgiveness and ask those who seek guidance to come to the altar.   
Castiel pushes from the pew and makes his way to the small crowd near the altar, there are preachers kneeling with those who are praying telling them the way God can heal all their wounds. Castiel is nervous. What if his damage is irreparable? He kneels anyway and lays his all on the altar. He feels trapped in his skin when the preacher rests a hand on his shoulder and begins to pray for him.  
\--  
Sunday is a day for rest, but when Castiel returns home, he buzzes with energy. The need to just do consumes him. His boxes have all been unpacked, every trinket placed where need be. The books on his shelf have been read and re-read and Castiel almost curses his lack of a television in his home. He refuses to use his laptop until he is sure the impurity is cleansed from him in full.   
Castiel runs a hand through his hair and searches around his small house for anything to distract him from the over whelming boredom. If his thoughts linger too long he might accidently think of Dean and that is a risk he not willing to take. He looks about his house and spots just out of the kitchen window a small plot of dirt, perfect for a small garden. Castiel has never been the type to sit in the dirt but if his mother could do it, then so can he. The hardware store is sure to have the supplies he will need.  
A heavy weight rests in his stomach when he thinks of venturing out with the possibility of running into Dean. Castiel does not hate him, he could never hate anyone, but Dean is the tempest and his will is not as strong as he once thought. Castiel imagines the scenarios that can play out if he runs into Dean, he can pretend he does not see him, but will be rude. He runs another hand through his hair and decides to venture out anyways.  
He gives silent thanks when Dean is not outside when he goes to his car. He gives another thanks when he returns from the hardware store without seeing Dean. Luckily the bags that contain the seeds and containers with the bulbs have instructions on their packages. This is a new trade for Castiel, one he hopes not to ruin completely on his first attempt. He digs holes deep enough for tomato plants before he realizes that he has already made a mistake.  
Most of the seed packets instruct that he needs to start them indoors until they sprout. He scoops the softened dirt into a few posts, settling the seed within the soil before covering them. Most of the packages read that they will take a few weeks before they begin to sprout, Castiel is a patient man but the anticipation is already strong. How will he know if he has made mistake if the evidence will not show for weeks? He plants a few more to be on the safe side. When they settle in their pots, he rests them on the ledge of his window in the kitchen to assure they get enough sun. The assortment makes him smile, distracting him from his previous worries.   
On his way out, Castiel noticed the walkway to his porch was bleak. His grass was nice, green and healthy even through the heat and rain. He settled for a few, already grown, assorted flowers. The task is much simpler than growing them on his own. The sun is smoldering by the time he finished potting the vegetables and to avoid ruining a perfectly good dress shirt and pants he has changed into his running shorts and an old t-shirt. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and sets about softening the soil along the edge of his walkway. Without the proper tools the task is more difficult than he anticipated.   
Finally, the ground soft enough to place the assorted flowers down. Castiel revels in how much nicer the yard is beginning to look with only a few flowers placed. He has a few feet of ground to cover and his back is beginning to hurt when a young women stops to watch. She is beautiful, the way the sun glistens on her hair, looking angelic. She watches quietly, smiling, looking as if she would like to help. Castiel finishes covering the flowers he is working on so he can give her his attention.  
“Uh, hi. Castiel? I’m Jess, I made the pie Dean brought over a few days ago,” her voice is smooth, like his mothers.   
“Ah, yes. Thank you. It was a sweet gesture. You have exceptional cooking skills,” he stands and wipes his hands on his shorts. “Pleasure to finally meet you.” He gives her a toothy grin that has her giggling.  
“Well, I do try. Listen, I just saw you out here gardening and wondered if I could offer you a hand. Sam and Dean are out bonding, or whatever, so it’s been a bit boring being in that house alone.” She points a thumb in the direction of Dean’s house and Castiel’s smile falters.  
“Yeah, that would be nice actually.” He shuffles around to find a second shovel, just big enough for making small holes.   
Jess catches on quick, being sure to leave an appropriate amount of room between each plant. She talks about Sam, says that they are only here for the summer until they have to return to school. Castiel is not that long out of college himself and reminisces of his days of a student. Jess and Sam are engaged, waiting until graduation before their wedding. She has a warmth in her tone when she talks about him. Castiel wonders if someone will feel that way about him someday.   
When they are finished, and Castiel has watered the flowers, Jess offers to make him lunch. Castiel agrees but when she turns to return to her home, Castiel offers his own kitchen. His equipment could use some use and it will be a good opportunity to learn to cook something that is not prepackaged. Jess runs smooth fingers along the edge of the oven and admires the shine to it. She is shocked to find that Castiel has nearly no plans for using the appraisable piece of equipment.   
Unfortunately, their lunch requires no use of the oven to Jess’s dismay. Instead she makes cucumber sandwiches, a snack Castiel has never had the privilege of experiencing until now. He pours them cups of tea and sets them on the kitchen table. Between bites of their sandwiches, Castiel and Jess discuss the vegetables he plans on growing. He promises to give her some of the product if they grow, they will get more use in her kitchen than his. She starts rattling off recipes she can use the tomatoes for and Castiel quickly grabs a pen and paper to write down some of the ones that he think will taste good and be easy to prepare. He hangs the list on the fridge and maybe he will remember to try them when the time comes.  
When it is well past noon Jess prepares to return home to finish cleaning Dean’s ‘pigsty of a house that he is so unworthy of.’ Before she leaves her face pinches and Castiel knows she has something to say. He worries she will try to invite him over and tries to think of a list of excuses.   
“Before I go I actually wanted to apologize-for Dean,” she quickly adds. “I’m not sure what he did but when he came home the other day he mentioned he made you angry. He means well, really, he just says a lot of stupid things he doesn’t mean.”   
Castiel is not sure how to respond. Getting to know Dean was easy at first but now, he is still the tempest. Castiel is learning to accept that it is more his own fault for being tempted than Dean’s, but he cannot run the risk of faltering once more.  
“No need to apologize. Dean’s fallacy was just as much of my fault as his. I just-there are certain morals that I follow-I’m not sure how to explain.” Castiel picks at the edge of his shirt. “Dean is a good man.” He settles on. Which is true, all of the movies Dean was is was purely for his brother to get into school. Castiel cannot justify all of his actions though and therefore turns Jess down when she suggest he come over.   
\--  
In the morning, before Castiel has his first cup of coffee he hears a small tap on his door accompanied by the sound of shoes scuffing his porch. He presses the power button on the coffee pot and peeks out his window. No one is standing on his porch and he wonders if a teenager was trying to prank him. He brushes it off and returns to his coffee pot. Living on his own gives him the advantage of only needing to make just enough coffee for him. Soon, the pot alarms that the coffee is prepared and Castiel pours a cup.  
He uses a small glass to water the vegetable on his windowsill before resting at the table. Work will not begin for another few hours, giving him time to catch up on a report he should have finished last night. Instead, he fell asleep early, muscles aching from working in the yard all day. It was definitely not because he fears his own impulses when the laptop is near him. Castiel is nearly finished revising his report when a bird taps at his window and scares him so much he nearly knocks his laptop off the table. The bird pecks at the glass in front of the pots at his window. Perhaps on his way home from work Castiel will buy a birdfeeder.   
Castiel saves the document to a flash drive and grabs his suit coat from the chair before dragging himself to work. The branch he manages is larger than he initially expected and some of the workers can be rude on a Monday morning. He will have to find a way to assert his authority and earn their respect without them hating him. He sighs and rests his head on the door. This new neighborhood is so much different from home but by six he will be in the comfort of his own home again.  
When he opens the door there is a rasp of paper before her turns and notices a small packet of seeds and a note on the door. Castiel nearly drops them both when the name signed at the bottom is Dean’s. Dean was at his front door not so long ago, Castiel was not ever aware he woke up so early.   
Hey Cas,   
Jess told me you’re starting a garden. These have been laying around in an old box and I figured you would get more use out of them.  
-Dean

Pumpkin seeds. Dean left pumpkin seeds for Castiel. Why would Dean even have pumpkin seeds lying around his home? Either way, Castiel places them on the table by his door before leaving. The package says they cannot be grown until September or October so they useless for now. Castiel still is not sure he can grow tomatoes let alone pumpkins. The gesture is kind though, he knows Dean means well.   
\--  
The month progresses with monotony. Castiel goes to work on the weekday, struggles to keep his workers from taking advantage of the break room. Setting an assertive tone has never been Castiel’s strong suit but he has managed to wrangle a few workers into behaving appropriately. Hester, his strongest employee, is a member of his church and through her he has been able to socialize with more of the workers. He keeps up will sales reports and is sure to report the numbers to Zachariah each week. When he receives payment, the check is larger than when he was just a sales representative. What money he does not set aside for bills, Castiel invests is better gardening supplies.  
Castiel continues to go to church each Sunday and even befriends Samandriel, the boy that sat beside him his first time there. Samandriel is young, a high school student and not very popular amongst his peers. He lets his shy nature get the best of him and Castiel can sympathize. He visits him weekly at the fast food restaurant he works at and lends him the books that helped him while he was growing up. Samandriel is a lover of God and eager to do right and Castiel admires his spirit.   
He recalls one Friday is particular when a group of rowdy teenagers had thrown fries at him, calling him crude names and Samandriel simply cleaned the mess and prayed for their souls the following Sunday. Castiel’s guidance ends when Samandriel asks how to approach a particular girl at the church though. He has little experience when it comes to dating, so he opts to building the boys confidence, assuring that things will work if it is God’s will.   
By the end of the month, Samandriel invites the girl to sit with them at the back of the church, smiling as if he could light the planet. Castiel is happy for him, of course, but it is another reminder that he has yet to find anyone. Perhaps someday God will bring a woman into his life, someone pure and devout. A woman he is sure he will not deserve but desire to please, in the purist form. Maybe one day he will even have children.  
Each Sunday, Castiel continues to lay his all on the altar, until one Sunday he finally feels free of his guilt. He cries while he prays, confessing each sin, each thought the God he loves. He admits to watching the videos, to what he did afterwards and even admits that if felt good even when he knew it was wrong. He cries harder when he confesses being attracted to another male. When he sings alongside Samandriel and the young women to his side, it feels pure, as if he is releasing the darkness trapped behind his ribcage. His soul feels new.   
Dean continues leaving notes on Castiel’s door, admiring his garden or offering tips for his now sprouting vegetables. Castiel is sure Dean has no gardening experience but appreciates the gesture. The tension he feels about Dean lessens with time, he comes to enjoy the small notes, and they remind him that Dean is not the wayward soul he appears to be. In fact, Dean is very kind and vigilant, spending time on the internet looking up gardening facts. He will write one out each day, on a sticky note, and stick them to Castiel’s door.   
The day after Castiel hangs a birdfeeder from his porch, Dean gives him a half used bag of bird feed accompanied with a note that says Castiel can have the rest. Each morning he can hear the blue jays and cardinals singing the arrival of the new day. Some days the gardening tips are accompanied with bird facts, the average wingspan of a shrike or even just different types of birds. The communication between them is small but Castiel hangs the wind chime Dean leaves him and Dean smiles from the Impala when he leaves with Sam that night. Warmth spreads in Castiel and the desire to see more of those toothy grins fills him before he reins it in and remembers that those thoughts are wrong.  
When the sprouts are ready to go into the garden, Jess comes over to help him plant. Once he tells her she does not need to help, but she insists she wants to. She prefers gardening to listening to Sam and Dean scream karaoke to a video game. Castiel has yet to formally introduce himself to Sam, the only time he saw, or rather heard his voice, and was when he dropped Dean in front of his door. Jess tells him later on that it was the night of their engagement party, family only, and sometimes Dean can get out of hand when he is drinking. Castiel agrees silently and tries to forget the night, or anything prior, happened.  
Jess seems pleased when they finally finish getting the plants in place. When the tomatoes begin growing, he will have to return to the hardware store for stakes to attach them to keep standing. Neither is sure which fertilizer to use and decide to go with something cheap. If Castiel continues gardening, he may invest in something better but for now, it is just a frivolous activity, a distraction. Speaking with Jess is as well, he enjoys how easy it to speak with her, she is gentle and reminds him so much of his mother. The way she nurtures each plant, guiding them to grow further each day.   
The once small flowers he and Jess planted the day they met are blooming, beautiful, yet not as beautiful as the ones his mother grew. Hers were always perfect, while Castiel’s wilt in some places due to a day or two of forgetting to water them. He furrows his brow at those places but leaves them, a reminder to do better. Jess says they just need to take better care; she will come to water them if he needs, but he does not want to burden her.  
\--  
On the first Sunday of June, Castiel has decided he forgives himself as well as Dean. After his confessional, he considers allowing Dean back into his life. No human is perfect, that is why his savior sacrificed himself. If Castiel works to keep himself in check then he can let his past trespasses go. Through small gestures, Dean has proven his guilt and Castiel hates denying Jess each time she invites him to their home. As much as Castiel loves their silent conversations and the little gifts Dean leaves him, he would prefer to thank Dean in person.   
The next day Jess comes by to admire his garden, Castiel suggests she bring Sam and Dean along. His garden is only comprised of small sprouts but the suggestion is more of an excuse to meet Sam and see Dean again. Jess sounds excited at the offer, eager for Castiel to, finally, meet her fiancé. Sam is interested as well, Jess has mentioned his small library, though cluttered with mostly religious books, and he has a small collection of books Jess claims will interest Sam.   
Sam is much taller than Dean, Castiel would be intimidated if he were not wearing the largest smile Castiel has seen a human possess. Their introduction is brief, interrupted when Dean stands beside him with a hand crafted bird house in his hands. The craftsmanship is stunning and Castiel wonders how long Dean spent on the house. Even more, he wonders why Dean would take the time to make such a lovely gift for him. Castiel sets the house in his living room, later he will add another hook to his porch for it to hang from. He will never admit how much he craves Dean’s gifts and thinks it for the best.  
Jess leads them to the garden, excited to show them what her and Cas have been working on. Sam kisses her forehead and smiles so tenderly at her Castiel cannot help but smile at the pair. When Jess reaches to remove a few weeds that have begun to sprout around the vegetables, Sam informs her that he will take care of them. She ruffles his hair and teases that he will end up uprooting the whole garden if he is to take care of it. They stop when Dean clears his throat and declares the two sickeningly affectionate, but his words are nothing but warm appreciation. The pang in Castiel’s chest returns making him wonder, yet again, when he will feel such warmth.   
After Sam has scoured Castiel’s bookshelf, Castiel offers to let him borrow the ones he would like when he wants. They discuss a few of them, losing Dean and Jess to their conversation. Sam is smart, not to Castiel’s surprise (he is in law school), and his thirst for knowledge is refreshing. Castiel was the same way growing up and informs Jess that she has picked a man worth keeping. Sam blushes and tucks a book under his arm. Jess elbows him in the side and presses a kiss to his cheek.  
Sam and Jess have reservations at a restaurant, tonight being their weekly date night. Castiel is nervous being around Dean with no one as a buffer, but reminds himself that he will be in control of his actions. At first, the conversation is very start stop. They discuss the weather, how cute Sam and Jess are together (not that Dean will admit it), even the status of his sprouts. Everything is forced and uncomfortable and Castiel wishes Dean will just say what seems to be occupying his mind so they can move on. Dean, finally, lets out a sign and says it.  
“Hey, I just wanted to say sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable like that. It’s just, these people around here, they know everything, and I mean everything, about me. Eventually it was going to come out so- not everyone reacts the same when they hear what I’ve done.” He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit Cas has picked up on.  
“No worries Dean, all is forgiven. You’re intentions in those…films were pure. You just rather caught me off guard I guess. My religion- I have these morals. I was ashamed,” for Dean or himself, he is not sure anymore. Castiel lets out a breath. It truly feels good to get the truth out, even if the conversation makes him uncomfortable. He focuses on the hem of his shirt, nervous of the red that warms his cheeks at the memory.  
“Yeah, yeah. Well it’s all in the past, like I said, everyone here watches them eventually. They get curious. I don’t blame you for getting upset either, I came on a little stronger than I meant I guess.” Castiel knows Dean believes there is no fallacy is watch porn, but he has his morals, which are against it. Even so, it was less shame for having watched, more shame for having been aroused, for seeing Dean in those vulnerable positions and wanting to be the one with him. He lusted, after not only another person, but a man no less. Castiel brushes it aside. The dust cloud has finally settled and Castiel can talk to Dean without lingering thoughts so things are, well good.   
“It’s fine Dean.” Really, it is. “Let’s move on.”


	3. Castiel's too Big House

Jess continues to visit each week, sometimes with Sam and Dean, sometimes not. When Sam and Dean are around the garden is ignored for a home cooked meal and good conversation. Castiel admires the gifts Dean continues to give, this time in person. The birdhouse remains on his coffee table, since returning to work, he finds less and less time to tend to his house. Each morning he will pour a fresh cup of coffee and admire the gift. Handcrafted to perfection, with enough room for a pair of lovebirds, even a porch is attached, mostly for show more than purpose. Castiel loves it, loves the bright green paint and the way the small windows allow just enough light to pass through.   
Sam is still borrowing one of Castiel’s books when he and Jess leave for a small trip, one they have been planning since their sophomore year of college. Castiel wonders if they always knew they would be in it for the long haul. Sam promises not to damage his book while he is gone, swears it will come back in one piece and Castiel trusts him. Jess leaves her apologies in the form of a new watering can for Castiel. She promises to spend time in the garden when she returns but Castiel reminds her she does not owe him anything and wishes them well on their trip.   
The nerves do not set in until the first day Dean comes over without his family. Their friendship has been moving steadily but Castiel still tries his best not to let himself be alone with Dean. Dean has no qualms though, coming over uninvited in the mornings to water the flowers in case Castiel forgets. Sometimes Castiel will find him in the garden tending to the plants, pulling weeds or watering them. None of the vegetables are harvestable yet, but Dean thinks he can see the beginnings of tomatoes growing on the vines, he tells Castiel one morning. Castiel investigated the plant finding only one small bud of life, a start.   
Some days Dean will knock late in the afternoon and let himself in after Castiel has opened the door. He will be carrying greasy burgers, soaking through the bag, telling Castiel he just has to try them. Other days, Dean stays home and drinks by himself and Castiel’s house feels too large again. No plants to watch over at night, no recipes to learn when he is laying in bed thinking. Thinking of Sam and Jess, how beautiful they are together, and of Dean. No matter how hard he prays or how many scriptures Castiel reads he cannot get rid of the way his breath catches when Dean gets too close, tells him something too personal.   
On Friday morning, Dean is skulking around Castiel’s yard again. Castiel wakes to the sound of a lawn mower, Dean is carefully maneuvering around the plants, mowing Castiel’s lawn. He grumbles and presses his face into the pillow. His alarm has not even gone off yet and because of Dean he is awake early. Castiel pulls himself to his window, unlatching the lock, and lifting it above his head. Dean is still pushing the mower up and down the lawn as Castiel tries to get his attention.  
“Dean.” Nothing.  
“Dean Winchester.” Nope.  
“Dean, I-swear-if-you-do-not-turn-that-stupid-piece-of-equipment-off-“ that works.   
The lawn mower turns off with a low grumble and Dean waves with a sorry smile at Castiel before pointing at the door. Castiel lets out an annoyed sigh and slips into a pair of sweats before letting Dean in. Dean is sweating from the task of pushing heavy equipment around, enough that Castiel crinkles his nose at him.   
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Dean says, stepping around Castiel before the door is fully opened.  
“Dean why are you mowing my lawn at,” he checks the clock, “six in the morning?”  
“I’m really adamant about lawn care?” Dean shrugs and moves his way into the kitchen. Castiel follows him and sits at the table while he prepares a pot of coffee.  
“Dean you’ve been coming over every morning and night for the past week, what is going on?” Castiel huffs. He still has to have his morning jog, and then his shower and prepare for work today. Dean’s interruptions have been bad for his schedules, not that he does not enjoy Dean’s company, but lately, Dean has been one of those stickers you put down when you are five and no matter how much you scrape at it, it just will not go away.   
“Just being friendly,” he presses the button on the coffee maker and sits down across from Castiel.  
“Yeah friendly, I’m friends with lots of people but I don’t mow their lawn at six in the morning.”  
Dean scrubs a hand over his face and rests his head on his folded arms. “I miss Sammy, I even miss Jess.”  
“Have you tried calling them?”  
“Of course I’ve tried calling them, hell I talk to them two three times a day. It’s just, I only see Sammy in the summers lately. He has Jess now and its hard getting used to him not being around all the time. I practically raised the kid you know.”   
Castiel’s chair scrapes against the floor when he stands to get a cup of coffee; he pours one for Dean as well.   
“You really love your brother…” he trails off. He admires the ways Dean’s voice gets soft when he talks about Sam, or raising Sam.   
“You tell anyone I said that and I will mow straight over your garden.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But yeah, he’s my little brother. Don’t you love your brothers?”  
Castiel tries his best not to laugh, while his brothers are great men, they can be troublesome. He wishes he had brothers like Dean who stuck up for him and were always there. His eldest brother, Luc, moved out when he was young, so they were never very close. Michael is admirable, a preacher at a church near his old home, but not the type for bonding. The rules that Castiel follows today were each taught to him by his older brother who stressed the importance of doing God’s will almost more than his mother does; did. Then Gabriel, another of Castiel’s elder brothers, is always getting into trouble. Not the type that ends with a jail sentence and a supply of orange jumpers, but the kind of trouble that makes Castiel nervous of walking through the high school’s halls his freshman year.   
Of all Castiel’s sibling, Gabriel is probably who he is closest to. After his mother passed away, Gabriel was the one to wipe away Castiel’s tears and talked him through the pain. Gabriel was able to set aside his own emotions to help Castiel and for that, he is grateful. When Gabriel decided to turn down religion and find his own way, Castiel kept his arms open. He was sad to see him turn down God, but Gabriel is his brother and he will love him no matter what decisions he makes. Michael on the other hand was not the same, he mourned for Gabriel, begged him not to stray.   
Castiel shakes away the memories.  
“I love my brothers yes, but we were never as close as you and Sam. Gabriel, comes the closest.” He smiles making his eyes crinkle. “But Dean, you cannot come waking me up this early because you miss Sam. I need sleep.”  
Dean huffs a laugh and nods. Castiel finishes drinking his coffee and makes his way to his bedroom. Dean follows him up the stairs, chasing his heal.  
“But if you’re free after work, just let me know okay. Just stop by or, whatever.”  
“Dean,” Castiel grumbles and shuts the door to his bedroom for privacy. When Castiel finishes dressing, Dean is gone and there is another note on the door.   
Have fun on your jog. Let me know when you’re off work. Have to go to work.   
Have a great day,  
-Dean  
Castiel un-sticks the note from his door and lays it on his table, along with the other notes Dean has left him.   
\--  
Castiel is packing up his belongings when Zachariah knocks on the door to his office. At first he is nervous, thinks if he missed a report sometime this week. Have his workers been slacking off? Zachariah has a Cheshire smile plastered on his face so Castiel remembers to breath. His work performance has not been perfect, but he is not the type to be lazy either. Castiel would say he is about average. Zachariah shuts the door to his office and takes a seat in front of his desk.   
“So, how do you like your new position?”  
Is this a trick question? “It’s good. The people here a great, this office is more than superb-“  
“Relax Castiel, have a seat.” Castiel rests uneasy in his office chair. “Look, a couple of us in HQ are going to get together next weekend. With your new position as manager, you are invited. Your meal, along with the lovely woman who will accompany you, will be payed in full. We just need your answer to know if we should reserve a spot for you or not.” Zachariah rests his hands behind his head and stares at Castiel pointedly.  
He thinks over the pros and cons of going. He will be able to discuss with his bosses, get on their good side. Perhaps be in position for another promotion if he makes a good impression. Yet, Castiel would much rather spend his day in the comfort of his home, even if the food is free. Most of the men above him are hypocritical and corrupt. He fiddles with his tie, straightening and re-straightening it. He does not want to turn Zachariah down, incase this is some sort of test. He huffs out a sigh.  
“Yes, I will attend.”  
“Perfect! I will mark you down for two?”  
“One.” Castiel looks down at his hands.  
“Shame, you are so young Castiel. You should put yourself out there more,” Zachariah leaves with a strong pat on the back.   
Castiel wonders if he should try to find a date, tell Zachariah to mark him down for two instead. None of the women in his neighborhood has met his interests though and he refuses to enter a bar, club, or anything of the sort. He runs a hand through his hair and rests his face on his desk. The wood presses against his nose painfully but he cannot bring himself to get out of his seat yet. He is lonely, and wondering how long until he has someone to share his life with is exhausting.  
\--  
“Dean your house is atrocious,” Castiel stands in the doorframe afraid to leave the threshold.   
It is true. Ever since Sam and Jess left for their trip, Dean has slacked on his chores. Spending his time inventing new ways to pester Castiel has been downright awful for Dean’s home. The floor needs swept, empty pizza boxes are stacked on the table, the dishes are in need of a wash and what appears to be a carpet monster is growing from a stain. Castiel tries his best to steel himself against the stench of moldy pizza and forces himself into the kitchen. Beneath the sink is a cabinet where Castiel finds trash bags, he starts by tossing the boxes into the bag, trying his best not to get disgusted when sauce coats his hands. When he is finished, he thrusts the bag in Dean’s direction, forcing him to take it, and the rest of the garbage bags, outside. Dean grumbles that his house is not that messy and that Castiel is making a big deal for nothing.   
He sets out to take care of the dishes by emptying one-half of the sink and running the water until it is hot enough to burn his skin. Through the burn of the water, he continues scrubbing each dish meticulously. He wonders how long each dish has been in the sink as he scrapes the carcasses of week old food from a plate. Dean has returned by then and Castiel orders him to sweep the living room. Dean is still whining but does it anyways.   
After an hour of scrubbing Castiel has managed to wash each dish and put most of them in their place. Dean is still scrubbing at the stain in the carpet so Castiel takes it upon himself to sweep the kitchen, Dean can mop when he is done. Dean sings to himself while he cleans and Castiel prefers it to the sound of him complaining. He can catch the familiar chorus’ he has heard riding in the car with Dean. An hour later and Castiel can sit on the couch without fear of catching the plague.  
Dean returns from his burger run with two burgers and fries. Ever since Dean introduced Castiel to Ellen’s cooking he has preferred it to his own home cooking on occasion, even with the meals Jess has taught him to prepare. They eat in silence, worn out from hours of cleaning. Dean mumbles thanks between fries and Castiel nods with a mouthful of hamburger.   
“So, now that your neat-freak self has cleaned my house, how was work?” Dean crumbles his sandwich wrapper, about to toss it to the trashcan, before Castiel glares at him. He pushes himself from the couch and drops it in the trash.   
“Well, actually. I got invited to meal by my boss.” A meal Castiel is still nervous about attending.   
“Sounds good, getting on the bosses good side is the way to go Cas.”   
“Yes, well these men are not particularly the kind you would like to spend a day with.” Maybe he should have turned down Zachariah’s offer, he can still tell him he is busy and will not be able to attend.   
“It’s good to get out though. Who knows, it could be fun,” he pats Castiel on the knee and offers him a smile.  
“Perhaps. Speaking of getting out, Dean you cannot mow my lawn at six in the morning unless you want a shoe chucked at you next time.” Castiel says jokingly.  
“Sorry about that, I get cabin fever in here sometimes. Going out is not the same when I’m alone.”  
“What about your other friends, Dean?”  
“It’s a long walk to mow their lawn that early,” he laughs.  
“Dean,” Castiel rolls his eyes, a habit he has picked up from hanging around Dean so often.   
“Sorry, it’s just, you’re close by. It’s just easier for me to walk over and say hi sometimes,” he laughs at some joke Castiel does not get. “They’re not as cute as you either,” he mumbles and stands to lay his empty cup in the sink.   
Castiel can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. He is glad Dean finds comfort in his presence while his family is away, but Dean can make circumstances uneasy at times. The compliments, the gifts, they way he stares at times. Castiel knows Dean likes him, maybe even more than as friends, but he refuses to encourage him. He refuses to let himself read into it because no matter how hard he represses the feeling, Castiel has taking a liking to Dean.   
Castiel gathers his trash and dumps it into the garbage. It is nearing 10 p.m. and Dean would know Castiel was making an excuse to leave this early on a Friday night. He whispers a silent prayer to himself and nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Dean’s footsteps behind him. Dean tells him to relax, reassures that he just needs in the fridge. Dean is close, close enough for Castiel to feel his warmth when he leans around him for the handle of the fridge. Castiel feigns a yawn and returns home early tonight.  
\--  
At the restaurant, customers are laughing and talking loudly. If Castiel focuses, he can hear other conversations more clearly than his own. Combined with the noise of forks scraping against plates and waiters taking orders, Castiel just wants the cacophony to end. To return home and sleep just to escape the stilted conversations. The men that rank above him want to talk about their wives, to their wives, and Castiel feels like a third wheel. He huffs a sigh and watches the clock, counting down the numbers.  
When everyone is served, the sound quiets shortly. Castiel pokes at the unfamiliar dish in front of him and wishes he were at the Roadhouse instead of this fancy place with fancy food. He picks at the vegetables around his meal and scrunches his nose at the sauce drenching it. A waiter stops to serve everyone drinks and Castiel politely declines the alcohol, which gains him a glance from a few of the men. They snicker and continue to eat their meals.   
Finally, the men and women have finished eating, and are sufficiently drunk enough that Castiel thinks this will be his chance to get away and return home, maybe visit Dean before going to bed. He returns his napkin to the table and scoots the chair back, maintaining eye contact with each guest in case they notice the sudden movement. Castiel bites his lip when Zachariah makes a face in his direction. He waves his hand, beckoning Castiel to join in at his end of the table.  
Castiel just wants the night to end but Zachariah is his boss so he makes the trip. Zachariah has a hand resting on his wife’s shoulder and a smile that makes Castiel cringe. He is nursing a glass of champagne and Castiel can tell by his breath that it is not his first drink tonight. He swallows his pride and takes the seat beside him.   
“Castiel,” he says to his wife, “is our newest addition to the HQ.” She smiles and nods in his direction, a sort of approval.  
“Such a handsome man, shame you’re here alone,” she coos.   
He restrains the will to walk away and waits for what Zachariah has to say next.   
“It really is, so I did a little talking. That blonde you’ve been talking to,” he snaps his fingers willing her name to come. “Hester I believe. She is single and I think she’s the type of girl you would go for Castiel.” Castiel fidgets in his seat and tries to look anywhere but at Zachariah.  
“Yes, well Hester is a very nice young woman. She shows expert knowledge in her field, good work ethic, strong morals.”  
“Calm down there Castiel, no reason to get so technical. She is, by standards, attractive and single.” He raises an eyebrow in his direction.  
“As I was saying, Hester is a nice woman but I’m not sure if we would make a good couple.” Castiel admires Hester’s work ethic, but he can only see her as a co-worker, nothing further.   
“Well, suit yourself Castiel, but you won’t be young forever.”  
Castiel nods and gathers his coat, saying good night to each guest before leaving.  
\--  
Castiel’s house feels large when he wakes up, and cold, too cold for a summer morning. He shuffles across the floor and pulls on a robe, but it makes him sweat so he has to pull it off again. He thinks of preparing for his morning run, but when his stomach lurches, the only thing he can focus on is making it to the bathroom before he ruins his carpet. His stomach aches and his head is pounding with a headache.   
The trek to the kitchen is much more difficult than he remembers. Castiel fills a glass with water and tries to swallow down two pain relievers for some form of comfort. Walking up the stairs will mean too much movement so Castiel curls onto the couch and hopes that whatever is happening will be over soon. He sets a bucket on the floor and tries to make it in each time to spare the carpet, they are blindingly white and one stain would mean the end of them. When he thinks he is empty he will groan and curl into himself, willing the illness away. The doorbell feels like a bullet ricocheting through his scalp forcing him to pull a pillow over his head.   
“Go away!” He shouts at whoever is at the other side of the door. He feels rude, but his head and stomach hurt and he just wants to be alone. It must be Dean because he has found his spare key and forcing himself into the living room anyways.   
“Oh shit, sorry, Cas it just reeks in here. Man you okay?” Dean pries one of Castiel’s arms away from him face to get a better look. Castiel just curls into a tighter ball.  
“Dean please let me die in peace.” Castiel is sure he is not dying but the pain in his stomach begs otherwise.   
“Yeah, I don’t think so; roll over so I can figure out what’s wrong with you.” Dean nudges at Castiel’s side with his knee, which causes another roll in his stomach, luckily Dean moves out of the way in time. He takes the bucket and empties it in the sink and returns with it, and a glass of water.   
Dean’s hands are warm when he lifts Castiel’s head and forces him to drink the whole glass. He pushes Castiel’s hair from his forehead and feels it. Next, he slides his palms to Castiel’s neck and feels, by which point Castiel has shut his eyes and nestled into Dean’s hands. Dean huffs a laugh that brushes against Castiel’s cheek. He rubs Castiel’s head, making him wince, and moves his legs to sit at the end of the couch.   
“Well, you don’t feel like you have a fever. You eat bad shellfish or something?”   
Castiel’s stomach rolls at the memory of the restaurants food but his stomach is empty now, aside from water. He nods and pushes the pillow over his face again. He should make Dean leave so he can rest peacefully but he appreciates the company. He remembers the way his mother would make him soup when he was sick and run her fingers through his hair until he was asleep. He groans when he thinks of Dean doing the same and presses the pillow tighter against his head.   
“Dean, go away.” He rolls onto his side, accidentally kicking Dean in the process.  
“Ow, no way man you’re sick. If it wasn’t for me your bucket over there would be ruining this carpet.” Castiel groans at that. “Sorry, just, you need someone to take care of you right now.” He pokes at Castiel’s ankle tentatively.   
Castiel swings his legs off the couch to show that he is feeling much better now, and Dean will you please go away. With his stomach empty, it aches painfully causing him to grip his side. He pushes Dean’s hand aside and tries to walk up the stairs, stopping at the first step when his head spins. Dean grips him by the shoulders and tries to force him back down the steps, but Castiel wants to shower and change into something not covered in his own bile. The way Dean grips his side and takes most of his weight reminds Castiel of the night he helped Dean home. He tries to shrug Dean off but Dean is much stronger and refuses to let Castiel tumble down the steps. Castiel is almost thankful when he makes it to the top of the steps in one piece.  
His bathroom is cramped with the two of them in there as Dean adjusts the water to something lukewarm and prepares a bath for Castiel. It is not until Dean starts helping him remove his shirt that he remembers that he is supposed to keep Dean from coming so close. His will is weak though and the bathwater just looks so nice that he hardly notices when Dean slides off his boxers and helps him into the water.   
Dean’s cheeks flush, from the heat or from being so close to a naked man, Castiel is unsure. He leaves the, freshly cleaned, bucket at the side of the tub and tells Castiel to get his attention when he is ready to come out. Castiel settles against the cold linoleum and lets the water wash over him. He does not have the energy to scrub his skin with the soap it needs but he does not want to move either. Instead, he just sits and stares at the painted wall in front of him.  
A few decorative shells hang from the wall, to go with the beach theme of his bathroom. They are in need of dusting; Castiel will take care of it tomorrow if he is feeling better. He thinks of the beach, when his mother would take him and his brothers to swim. His father would sit in the sand and make castles with Castiel when he was too young to join his brothers. When his father passed, his mother made sand castles with him. After his mother, Gabriel bought him a ceramic sand castle that rests on the shelf beside his medicine cabinet now.   
Castiel is unaware of how much time passes when Dean knocks on the door.  
“How’s it going in there?”  
Castiel groans and Dean opens the door slowly with a towel in his hands. He holds it in front of him and faces the wall while Castiel wraps it around himself. With most of the grime, gone Castiel is already feeling better.  
“Come on stinky, time to get you to bed,” Dean does not give warning before securing the towel around Castiel and lifting him in his arms.   
Castiel loops his arms around his neck to prevent falling and rests his swirling head on Dean’s shoulder. He should feel tense about being this close, maybe embarrassed about being treated like a child, but his head is swimming and he just wants to focus on making the pain stop. Dean mumbles an apology and carries Castiel to his bed, dropping him more gently and tossing a fresh pair of boxers at him. Castiel begs for a shirt so he tosses one over as well. Dean keeps his back turned to him as Castiel changes into his clothes.  
Once Castiel is resting in his bed comfortably, Dean places the bucket to the side and sets down another glass of water. Castiel needs to keep up his fluids, he tells him, before walking out of the room. Castiel sips at the water but gives up in favor of sleeping. He dreams about owning a sailboat and catching monstrous fish with scales that glimmer the color wheel. He lives in a castle made of sand where he prepares and cooks fish for his partner. Castiel shakes awake when Dean presses a hand to his shoulder, ruining his dream.  
Dean is holding a bowl in one hand and a pack of crackers in the other. Castiel tries to refuse, afraid of losing those as well, but Dean is persistent.   
“Want me to do the little airplane thing?” Dean mimics engine sounds and moves the spoon across the air like a plane.   
“I’m capable of feeding myself, thank you.” Castiel rests the bowl in his lap and tries to eat as much as he can. Dean tells him he has to finish half the bowl before he can sleep again so he does. When Castiel finishes, he shimmies until the blankets mostly cover him, leaving his head visible. Dean pushes his hair from his forehead, the warmth is nice and Castiel stops himself from reaching out to him. Dean grabs the dishes and pushes off the bed, leaving Castiel to fall asleep by himself.  
\--  
The next morning Castiel feels better, enough to shower by himself and dress by himself. The stairs are easier to manage and his stomach is screaming in hunger when he reaches the kitchen. He sets the coffee pot and starts pulling out the ingredients for scrambled eggs. He nearly drops the carton of eggs when he hears a noise in the living room.  
Dean is lying on his couch and upon further viewing Castiel discovers he is sleeping in only his underpants. He quickly grabs a blanket and drops it on Dean, which makes him startle.   
“Shit, Cas, don’t do that,” he tosses the blanket off and pulls his pants on.  
“You were sleeping on my couch, naked.” He exaggerates the word to get his point across. Dean pulls on his shirt and smirks at him.   
“You don’t have room to talk.” Castiel looks down and sees that he himself is only in a pair of underpants and a t-shirt. He grumbles, returns to the kitchen, and does not think of Dean naked on his couch.   
Dean joins him for breakfast after watering the garden and updating Castiel on the plants growth. The little bud is growing, finally accompanied by others. In another week or two Castiel should be able to harvest and share them with Jess. Speaking of, Castiel wonders when she and Sam will be back. They have been keeping in contact through Dean and Castiel misses them both.   
He will be relieved when Dean has Sam to spend most of his day with and he will not have to wake up to him naked in his house, mowing his lawn, leaving him notes, or making him soup. Today is Sunday, which means he will have reprieve when he needs to leave for church in an hour, but when he returns who knows what Dean will want to do. He sighs and swallows his coffee, burning his tongue.   
\--  
Sam and Jess return the following Tuesday with suntans and pictures of their vacation. Sam returns his book before Dean drags him to the nearest bar stating that they have catching up to do. Jess laughs as the Impala rumbles down the road. Her laugh is soothing and makes Castiel exhale his worries of being alone with Dean. He has passed, he can control himself around Dean, even naked Dean, sleeping on his couch naked Dean.   
He may have given into his touches while he was sick, reveling in the feel of his rough hands but he finally feels like he can beat his own convictions. He does not share this with Jess while they talk, instead listens to her go on about Sam and the burn he got on his back from sleeping outside. He prepares tea for them while Jess marvels the tomatoes sitting on his counter. A few more and she thinks she will be able to use them.   
\--  
The next morning Castiel wakes up for work there is no Dean mowing his lawn, no Dean to yell at or toss is shoes at, only Castiel and his too big house with his floors that chill his feet. He only makes enough coffee for one and cannot be bothered to prepare breakfast, but thinks he will buy a burger for lunch. He makes a mental note to hang a hook on the porch when he spots the lonely birdhouse. He locks his door to his too big house and rubs the spot where Dean usually sticks his notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was nervous about uploading this chapter for some reason. Sharing my writing makes me nervous sometimes, but I really want to continue this story.


	4. Pumpkin Seeds

Castiel spends his afternoon in the garden, picking at weeds and watering plants. Jess has taken refuge in his kitchen with the tomatoes he picked. She is making a ham and tomato pie, with a salad to accompany it, the only way Sam agreed to try it. The pie is on Dean’s behalf, when she began listing possible meals he leaped at the word pie and made her promise to make it. Jess shook her head but set the recipe on the counter.   
When Castiel has finished tending to his garden, he joins Jess in the kitchen, intending to assist her in her cooking. She has finished sautéing the ham and green onions, the pie shell is prepared and she has just finished layering the bottom with sliced tomatoes. Only a few steps remain before she will put the dish in the oven so she tells Castiel that his assistance is unneeded. He almost feels disappointed about not being able to help so he pulls the tea from the fridge and pours them both a fresh glass.   
The kitchen is warm from the oven and alive with the scent of home cooking, Castiel feels like a child again. He remembers watching his mother cook for him, allowing him tastes before the meal was complete. A smile tugs at his lips at the fond memories. Castiel spent most of his childhood watching his mother clean and cook for him, work to keep food on the table when his father passed on. She was a super hero to him, always able to fix what needed taking care of and more.   
Jess wipes her hands on a towel and spares a smile in Castiel’s direction. Her hair sticks out from the heat of the kitchen and Castiel cannot help but laugh at how silly she looks. She picks up the towel and tosses it at him before he has time to react. The towel bounces from his head and lands unceremoniously on the floor. They are in a fit of giggles when Dean and Sam walk in. Sam presses a kiss to Jess’ temple and wraps his arms around her waist. He asks how dinner is coming along and Jess mumbles a reply to him.  
Dean leans against the doorframe, the kitchen feels so small with so many people in it and Castiel understands Dean’s reluctance to join them. He pushes out of his seat and pours a glass of tea for Dean, who smiles and winks when he grabs it. Castiel fidgets with the edge of his shirt, a nervous habit Dean brings out of him. Dean has a playful smirk on his face and Castiel is unsure of what to do with himself. Luckily, Dean moves out of the way when he moves to get into the living room.  
On the shelf by his door is the first gift Dean gave him when they quit talking, a pack of pumpkin seeds. Castiel remembers the day he got it, the sound of Dean’s boots scraping against the porch when he ran off. He was so nervous then, so reluctant to let Dean into his life. Warmth settles in his stomach when he holds them now. Now, Dean is here and Castiel enjoys his company even if the guilt of doing wrongs tells him otherwise. Dean is facing him in the doorway when he turns around so he shakes the packet to get his point across without words. The corner of Dean’s mouth twitches in a smile and he pulls the packet from Castiel’s grip, the tips of his fingers are soft when they brush against Castiel’s own. He rolls it in his hands, and reads the instructions aloud.   
“You’re a little late in planting these, aren’t you?” He says, handing the packet back. Castiel knows, remembers being so unwilling to accept the gift in the first place, let alone plant them in his garden.  
“Yes, well I figured I should start them now. Better late than never,” he smiles down at the small packet, hoping he will have pumpkins by fall.   
“Right, so, what do we need to do?” Dean sets his tea down and rubs his palms together.   
Castiel is taken aback because Dean has only ever helped in the garden when Jess was away; he has never shown interest outside of filling and emptying the watering can on the plants or removing small weeds. He squints at the packet and scrunches his eyebrows. This feels intimate, makes him unsteady on his feet and words tangle behind his tongue. He is letting Dean into his garden, giving him permission to help grow something from nothing.   
“I’ll need the small pots, same ones I used for the tomatoes when I started them,” he starts to move towards the kitchen, but Dean has beat him to it. Dean weaves past Sam and Jess in the kitchen, who are joined at the hip near the fridge. He pulls the two pots from the windowsill and returns to Castiel, holding them both out.   
“We’ll need soil.” Dean skirts out the door behind the house before Castiel has time to follow him. Dean is standing near the patch of tomato plants looking for a spot to grab soil from. Just behind the tomatoes in a plot of soil where nothing sits and Castiel points a finger in the direction, guiding Dean.   
“We can plant them here when they are ready,” he kneels beside Dean and begins filling each pot with an appropriate amount of soil. He can feel Dean’s eyes on him as he shakes the seeds into the pots and covers them. Dean brings a small watering can over and waters each one.   
“Now,” Castiel says carrying the pots into the kitchen. “We wait.” He sits them on the sill and informs Jess of the new addition to the garden.  
\--  
Castiel’s second nightmare since staying in his new home comes on a Friday night. The nightmare is a repeat of the day he discovered his mother passed on, she was sick for a long time beforehand and they all knew. Castiel tried to deny it. His mother was his lighthouse while his boat buoyed far from home, lost at sea. No matter how many creatures tried to redirect his path, his mother was always there, always shining. Castiel can hear her voice clear as day, repeating her goodbyes he was never able to hear. He begins a slow descent under the waves, losing his grip on her voice, her light. He hits a patch of sand at the bottom and waits as the air rushes from his lungs. He is at peace when the last trace of oxygen leaves him.  
Sweat makes Castiel’s clothing cling to him when he wakes up. He pushes the covers away and looks around his room, shaking away the last of his dream. The clock reads four thirty, eliciting a groan. He wipes his hair off his forehead and sits against the headboard. The wood presses against his shoulder blades uncomfortably but he does not have the energy to move. Instead, he shuts his eyes and thinks of the good times he had with his mother, something to prevent his heart from leaping from his chest. When Castiel opens his eyes, only five minutes have passed.  
Cooling wind beats against his skin and he takes solace in the way it relaxes him. The curtains sway with the wind, making a small snapping noise each time they stretch too far. Castiel stands and shuts the window. He is already awake, unable to sleep again, and decides to make his way to the kitchen. There is leftover ham and tomato pie from when Jess made it, the day he and Dean planted the pumpkins. He is too tired to reheat it, instead eats it cold. The taste is different, tastes a bit like cold and fridge, much different from the warm taste it gave him when he ate if for dinner so many nights ago. He eats it anyway.  
Castiel jogs past the borders of his neighborhood, needing an escape from his own racing thoughts. He watches the scenery fly by him, the supermarket, the house of the woman who brings donuts to church, and finally the lake Dean pointed out to him some time ago. Those weeks ago, he made plans to come visit the lake, admire the scenery but life has a way of interfering. Castiel slows his pace and admires the pool of water. The sun has yet to rise so there is no reflection on the water, merely the shadows where water overlaps water. He finds the bench in front of it and sits, watching the ripples on the water.   
He remembers his dream, the feeling of drowning as the oxygen in his lungs quickly became replaced by water. Hitting rock bottom meant having no more worries, no reason to struggle to stay above the sea. Something calming came from seeing his mother’s light but not feeling the need to chase after it, just watching, knowing, drowning in it. It all felt so finite, resting at the bottom was easy. He scuffs his shoe in the grass and just stares as the blades move against the wind. He sits and he watches the world turn around him until the sun comes up and the smell of his own sweat begins to annoy him.  
\--  
Dean checks on the buds each afternoon when he returns from work. Whether Castiel is home or not does not matter, this is how Castiel finds him in his house one afternoon. He is late coming home and the ease of the way the door opens unsettles him because he is sure he locked the door on his way out. He says a silent prayer and pushes into the living room checking for hidden burglars but there are none. He sees movement in the kitchen making his breath catch and release when Dean comes out with a bite of pie in his hand.   
“Dean,” Castiel stretches the syllables on his name and tosses himself onto the couch. The plush material absorbs him instantly. “What have I told you about coming into my house unannounced?”   
“Yeah, sorry about that, but if it’s any consolation I did knock.” The couch dips where Dean sits beside Castiel. Castiel rolls his eyes and leans into Dean’s warmth, a subconscious habit he has been trying to get himself quit.  
“Listen, Sam Jess and I are having a sort of movie night tonight and you’re invited,” he beams a smile. The hope that Castiel will say yes weighs heavily in his eyes and Castiel already knows what his answer will be.  
“Movies?’ Castiel heard of films growing up but his parents were reluctant to let him watch them, too much sex and violence. He knows the plot to most through books he read in the corners of libraries.   
“Yeah like, the Fifth Element, Harry Potter, that type of sh-stuff. It’s Sammy’s pick tonight and the giant geek wants to watch some A plus nerd stuff I’m sure you will enjoy.” He pokes at Castiel’s shoulder.   
“Yeah, I’ll come. Let me water the…”  
“Already done.”   
“Okay then.”  
\--  
Jess and Sam fell asleep sometime between Harry Potter movies, pointed out to Castiel when Dean began unabashedly tossing popcorn into Sam’s hair. He only snorted and leaned further against Jess, making her shift as well. Dean had made a bet with himself, because Castiel does not gamble, that Sam would be asleep before Dobby made an appearance. Throughout the films, he whispered to Castiel all the times he was sure Sam was going to be out like a lamp, only to be disappointed when Sam’s eyes stayed open. The soft brushes of his breath against his hair made Castiel squirm and focus harder on the movie in front of him.  
Castiel enjoyed sharing the joke with Dean; it made him feel a part of something. Dean was close, closer than he should be; given the wide space the couch allowed. Castiel can feel his own eyes drifting to a close and wonders if he should give his goodbye and return home. Dean is comfortable though, more than he would like to acknowledge. He begins to drift to sleep when Dean shakes his shoulder abruptly.  
“Don’t go falling asleep on me now, only three more of these to go,” he rubs his eyes and puts in the next DVD in the series.   
“I am quite tired Dean,” he yawns to push his point.  
“Nope, no sleep, c’mon get up,” he pulls Castiel by the arms forcing him to stand.  
“Dean,” he stands anyways.  
“Let’s get some more coffee in you, or see if I have anymore red bull in the fridge.”   
Dean drags Castiel behind him and roots around in the fridge until he finds the last can of red bull. Castiel slouches against the wall and watches the way the muscles in Dean’s back move. Maybe it is the lack of sleep, but Castiel wants to touch Dean, feel the muscles beneath his palm. When Dean’s head emerges from the refrigerator, he watches Castiel a moment before shutting the door.  
“Are you alright over there?” His voice is gruffer than Castiel remembers and it makes a shiver run down his spine. He nods and pushes his weight from the support of the wall.  
“Drink up, we got a few more to go,” he hands the can over but Castiel does not make a move to open it.  
“You are really tired aren’t you,” he laughs and ruffles Castiel’s hair. The movement wakes Castiel for a moment, but he drifts again.  
Dean pushes him to the couch, taking his seat beside him, and opens the can. He takes a sip and passes it to Castiel who takes a sip of his own. They make it through the next movie like this, sharing the can to gain extra energy. Soon enough the buzz wears off and Castiel is slumped against Dean’s shoulder, unable to support his own weight. His eyes are heavy and he wants to remove himself from Dean’s side but moving is too much work. Dean shakes his shoulder making his eyes open. The living room is dark without the TV to light it. Sam is pulling Jess off the couch, up the stairs and soon the living room is empty.   
Castiel pushes against Dean’s side to lift himself, for the first time he is touching Dean, really feeling him. He is hard edges, defined by muscle that shudders against his palm. Castiel wants more, wants to search the plain of Dean’s skin, instead he removes his hands and leans against the back of the couch. Dean is watching him as he tries to flatten his hair against his head and it makes him uneasy. Castiel ghosts his eyes over the curve of his jaw to the plump of his lips, a knot tightens in his chest and the need to touch again is heavy. He wants to look away, go back to his too big home and rest under to cold covers until sleep drowns him.  
Dean rests a palm on Castiel’s cheek and rests his forehead against his. “You okay?”   
The sound is a whisper, barely audible if Dean were not so close. Castiel’s lungs close, a gasp shudders out nearly choking him. Dean is so close, calloused palm sliding against his stubble making him itch. He scrunches his eyebrows because why is Dean doing this, why is Dean touching him? Why is Castiel letting him? He loses his chance to pull away when Dean’s tentative lips caress his own, and he is lost. He is lost in the feeling; the bitter taste of energy drink on Dean’s lips that he is sure stains his own. He presses his own lips against Deans, which makes him moan in surprise.   
Dean releases Castiel gently, keeping his palm on his cheek. Castiel cries, a silent sob that beats against his ribcage. He wants this; he wants Dean, even if Dean is wrong. He mourns the loss of his morals as he clings to Dean, fingers digging into soft fabric. Dean just holds him close and rocks him against his chest, the way his mother would when he was young, he shakes the thought away and curls closer to Dean.   
Dean keeps telling him he is sorry, but Castiel does not want that, he does not want Dean to think he has done something wrong. He wants this, and no matter of forcing in down, placating the thoughts will stop the way the warmth grows behinds his ribs when he kisses Dean again. A forceful press of his lips against Deans, sloppy from lack of practice, but Dean returns it just as forcefully. His breath is heavy against his lips and the need to touch burns in Castiel’s chest so tightly he thinks he might choke. His touches are light at first, tentative fingertips the press into Dean’s hair. He can taste his own tears and wipes them on his sleeve; this is not how he wants to remember his first kiss.   
Dean’s weight presses against him, leaning him into the couch and shuffling until his body lines up with Castiel’s. Nerves creep into Castiel’s chest again, he wants Dean but Dean is moving too quickly, nipping and licking at the exposed skin of Castiel’s neck. He grips into the fabric of Dean’s shirt and forgets to breath when Dean bites and tugs at his skin. When Dean’s fingertips ghost under his shirt Castiel remembers himself and pushes Dean away. Dean looks confused and hurt and Castiel needs to catch his breath before he can explain himself.  
“Dean, I’m not…” the word ‘ready’ hangs on his tongue but he feels so childish saying it.   
“It’s okay, sorry,” Dean is out of breath when he settles back against the couch.   
“No, don’t be sorry. I want to, I just,” he just what, has morals? That is not an excuse anymore, just a phrase to get him through a day of keeping away from Dean. He still is not ready yet, morals or not, he is scared of being so close, going so far.  
“In time,” he settles on. Dean nods but keeps his distance. Castiel does not like that. He wants to be close so he slides across the couch and rests a palm over Dean’s own. Dean rubs a thumb against his palm and watches where their hands join.  
“So what does this make us then?”  
“A couple, I think.”  
“You ever been in one, a relationship?”  
“No.”  
Dean presses a kiss to Castiel’s temple and holds him tight against his chest. Castiel hopes he never lets go.  
\--  
Dean begins replacing Jess in the garden, watering the flowers in the morning and tending to the vegetables. He says it is so that Jess can spend more time with Sam but Castiel knows it is because he wants to spend more time with him. Jess does not mind, she just smiles between the two. She continues to teach him recipes using the tomatoes, using store bought ones while they wait for more to grow. Castiel is surprised he has not grown tired of their taste yet.   
Sam corners him at the mailbox one day, asking if it was true that he and Dean were together. His cheeks hurt from smiling when he confirmed it. He does not associate his attraction towards Dean with shame anymore; it all feels right, as much as the day turning into night does. Dean is the breath of fresh air that fills his lungs and makes him feel whole. Sam shares the news with Jess who smacks them both and exclaims that it was about time. The fondness makes him burst with affection.  
There is a spring in Castiel’s step when he goes to work, no longer exhausted by his mundane habits. He talks to his coworkers with fervor and congratulates them for a good weeks worth with a cake Jess taught him to bake. His first attempt he nearly burned the pastry, but with practice he is confident. Zachariah takes notice of his attitude and asks if Castiel finally talked to Hester and Castiel trips over his own feet. He wants to tell Zachariah that he is wrong, Dean is the one that lifts him up but the world is full of the judgmental and Zachariah is his boss. He fiddles with the strap to his bag and avoids eye contact with him.  
Hester begins to question when Castiel will return to church, mentions that Samandriel misses seeing him. Guilt itches under Castiel’s skin but he has finally found the one that makes him happy and just wants to be left alone. He wants to make decisions without them questioned. Mostly it is knowing that he so eagerly went against his own morals to be with Dean that makes him anxious, but the questions pushes it to the surface. He bites his lip and tells Hester he is unsure when he will return, because he truly is.  
Dean brings him lunch, a cheeseburger from Ellen’s (with extra napkins). They eat in Castiel’s office with the door closed and his papers pushed aside to prevent ruining them with grease stains. They tangle their legs under the desk only to jolt apart when Zachariah knocks. He has papers he wants Castiel to review and casts a glance between the two before leaving. Dean straightens up his wrappers and dumps them in the trash. He tells Castiel he does not want to get him in trouble and leaves, giving Castiel a quick kiss.   
When Castiel is packing up for the night, Zachariah steps into his office and sits in the seat across from him. Castiel hopes it is another invite for him to decline and steels himself. Zachariah exhales and fiddles with the pens on Castiel’s desk before speaking.  
“So, it isn’t Hester making you happy, huh?”  
“No,” Castiel focuses on his hands, avoiding eye contact.  
“That guy,”  
“Dean.”  
“Yeah, he the one?”  
“Yes.”  
“Just be careful about what you’re getting into. I hear people talk and apparently that Dean guy isn’t as clean as you’d think.”  
Castiel nods and exhales when Zachariah finally leaves. He remembers Dean saying that in a small town people talk and kicks himself for thinking Zachariah would not know. Dean still has a checkered past and even if Castiel can drop it, some people cannot. He wants to lash out, tell them Dean is all things pure and his intentions are right, make sure no one ever misinterprets his actions every again.   
He kisses Dean extra hard when he gets home and refuses to let him leave. They lie in his bed and talk about their childhoods. Dean spent most of his taking care of Sammy, dropped out of high school, worked in the film industry to keep the bills payed. He talks about his mother, says that she used to tell him angels were watching over him before she died in a house fire. Bobby, his boss, helped raise him when his father died years later. The burden of having someone paying his way while he was making no progress is what made him cash in to the film industry and not care when they asked him to take his clothes off.  
Castiel tells him about his own family, that they were all religious and he walked in their footsteps whether he wanted to or not. He loved his mother, respected her wishes, which meant he did whatever she asked. His brothers instilled the will of God in him and he followed like a lost lamb. He never thought of straying too far, always planned to marry within his church, until he met Dean. Until Dean carved out a spot of his own in Castiel’s life, Castiel had never dreamed of a life so satisfying. Castiel tells him about the day his mother passed away, how hard it was to live without a constant source of guidance.   
Dean hums a song and Castiel shakes off his worries, his doubts, and the endless guilt creeping into his bones. He relaxes into Dean’s side and surrounds him in nothing but Dean and Dean’s touches. He falls asleep to the rhythm of Dean’s heart beating and tonight he dreams of nothing but bright lights and Dean’s grip keeping him from floating too close to the sun.   
\--  
Dean helps Castiel plant the pumpkins on a Sunday. Dean came running into his room at the sight of plant breaking through the surface of the dirt. The bed shakes with the force of Dean jumping onto, planting a kiss on Castiel’s nose, cheeks, eyelids, everywhere until Castiel rolls over and pulls on a pair of pants. Dean’s grin is eager making Castiel roll his eyes because they are just plants. He pushes Dean through the door to get down the steps, making Dean laugh and ruffle his hair. Excitement runs through his veins when he walks into the kitchen and sees the small sliver of green. Dean looks all over proud to have helped grow the plant so Castiel kisses him on the cheek.   
Dean softens the dirt behind the tomato plants, careful not to disturb them. Castiel is still in his pajamas and prefers to watch from the comfort of the kitchen door. He instructs Dean on how to plant them, how to fertilize and how much to water them. When Dean is finished, he stands back and admires his own handy work. Warmth grows in Castiel and he suffers through getting dirt on his bare feet to kiss Dean firmly. Dean wraps his arms around his waist and kisses him back, soft and sweet.   
Dean tastes like coffee and Castiel thinks he can get lost in his kisses forever. The smell of leather and aftershave nearly suffocates him and he wants nothing more than to stay pressed against Dean, ignore his responsibilities and just stay here. The world can continue to turn while Castiel stays pressed against Dean, his job can handed off while Dean whispers against his skin, his faith can falter as Dean presses kisses to his skin. He wants nothing more than Dean in his entirety. So many days of pushing away the desire to be close, to fill that empty space in his gut wiped away when Dean hoists him from the dirt and carries him to the kitchen, kissing him the whole way.  
Dean and Cas spend the day in his bed, bodies pressed together, and legs intertwined. Castiel hardly notices that he has missed church until a spark of guilt crawls under his skin but dissipates when Dean presses his fingers to his lips. Dean is rough and soft all at once and Castiel’s senses do not know how to interpret that. He lays his head on Dean’s chest and his too big house feels just right for once.   
“So, this is your first time being with anyone?” Dean’s voice breaks the silence, rough from disuse.  
“Yes, actually.” Dean rubs circles in his back and Castiel has to focus to prevent falling asleep.  
“You’re a virgin then?”   
“Yes,” he can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. “Is that a problem?”  
“No, no it’s fine, more than fine it’s good. Makes me feel like you’re all mine, in a way.”  
“I am Dean,” he lifts himself to press a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips.


	5. The Conferrer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you be my star  
> I'll be your sky  
> you can hide underneath me and come out at night  
> when I turn jet black and you show off your light  
> I live to let you shine  
> I live to let you shine  
> -Gregory and the Hawk

Pumpkin vines have begun to sprout, weaving their way through the garden, when Sam and Jess declare they will be leaving in a month. School will be starting and they need to be back in time, as well as prepare for the new semester. Dean promises to visit Castiel each morning, but he needs to spend time with Sam before he leaves. Castiel does not mind, he understands the need to spend time with one’s family. That does not stop the sheets from being cold at night and the place opposite his in the kitchen from feeling empty.   
Castiel immerses himself in the task of taking care of his plants, bent over in the garden with the brunt of the sun on his shoulder. He is a few shades darker than he remembers ever being, but he becomes nowhere near as freckled as Dean is. A few, though, have begun to spot behind his ears and on the back of his arms. They only fuel the need to be close to Dean again, kiss each speck. Castiel pulls the last of the weeds and sits on his feet to admire his handiwork, the tomato plants stand firm against their stakes, producing vibrant tomatoes. Castiel rolls one in his hand, it is green, not yet ready to pick, but flourishing.   
Castiel stands and brushes the dirt from his knees; his task is done but the need to do more sits like a rock in his gut. He looks around his home for a task, a distraction. The lawn can use a trim, but Castiel worries he will be unable to maneuver the mower around the flowers the way Dean does. The birdfeeders already filled, waiting for birds to take their fill. He still needs to hang the birdhouse on the porch, something he promised he would take care of weeks ago only to be distracted by another task. Castiel moves into the kitchen and wonders where he has another hook lying around, nowhere. He will need to go to the hardware store and pick up supplies, after showering first of course.   
The hardware store is a short drive from his home, easier to manage without the loud sounds of rock music blaring in his eardrums. Dean refrains from leaving the music too loud now and turns on something Castiel actually likes on occasion. He smiles to himself as he pulls out of his driveway. He runs over the mental list of items that he needs for his home as he parks in the lot to the hardware store. His car makes a grumble as he turns it off, but it is an oldie so Castiel casts his concern aside.   
The hardware store can be a maze at times, a collection of twists and turns that, without the aid of signs, would be daunting. Castiel finds the hooks with ease, having done so on occasion. He looks them over, checks that they are the size he wants before adding them to his basket. He finds the next items with less convenience, a light bulb to replace the one by the bookshelf, a new shelf to substitute for the flimsy one in the kitchen, and new plunger for the bathroom (after one night of Dean slamming down numerous tacos Castiel decided he needed one).   
On the way to the register, Castiel finds something that catches his eye. It is just a bundle of woven branches, not yet worthy of the title wreath, but Castiel wants it, wants to decorate it. He grabs the bundle, some spray paint, and a few other knick-knacks he thinks will do well on the wreath. They will make a beautiful addition to his home he thinks. He lays them in his basket and checks out at the counter.  
\---  
Castiel turns his keys in the ignition for the fourth time, praying now will be the time his engine turns over and the car finally starts. No dice. He pulls the keys out and tosses them on the passenger seat before resting his face on the steering wheel out of frustration. He has never dealt with car trouble, does not know the first thing about cars. The car he drives now is the same one that has passed through his brothers until they could afford their own and trade up. Castiel knew a time would come when he would have to trade up and get rid of his clunker but he did not think it would be so soon. Castiel rolls up his sleeves, his house is not too far and he can leave anything too heavy in his car until returns if he locks the doors.   
The walk starts out simple; Castiel only carries the light bulb, hooks, and wreath with him, promising himself to go back for the shelf and plunger tomorrow. The sun begins to beat against his shirt, even with the top button undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows, it is stifling. A marvel, how a simple five minute drive can turn into a half hour walk. He continues walking, placing one foot in front of the other, counting the cracks in the sidewalk until he reaches the block he lives on. He lets out a sigh of relief when his own home comes into view. He revels in the feeling of his own porch beneath his feet and wastes no time dropping the bags on his floor and collapsing on the couch.   
Even though he is home now, the problem remains that he needs to do something about his car. He makes enough money to fix up his home here and there but he is unsure if he has enough to replace his car if worse comes to shove. Castiel scrubs a palm over his face and rubs at his eyes until he sees stars. He is exhausted and does not want to think about troubles, he wants to curl next to Dean in his bed and sleep to the rhythm of his breath. Kicking off his shoes, he pulls his legs onto the couch and buries his face in the pillow.   
\--  
Castiel wakes abruptly when a hand shakes his shoulder, but he refuses to open his eyes, too exhausted. When the panic diminishes, he can feel heat along his side and presses against it. A laugh, a push of air, along his hair tells him Dean has let himself in his home again. He curls into the larger man and presses a kiss to what is nearest his lips, which happens to be Dean’s chest, happy to have Dean near him again. Dean smoothes his palm over Castiel’s side and runs a few fingers through his mussed hair. He needs a trim soon, to manage the length, but he likes the way Dean’s finger’s slide through effortlessly. Dean presses a kiss to his forehead.  
“Where’s your car? I thought you weren’t here at first.”  
Castiel wants to address that Dean came into his house even when he thought Castiel would not be there, but focuses on the more pressing issue instead.  
“It won’t start, so I left it at the hardware store.”It feels silly rolling off his tongue, mixed with sleep fog in his voice.   
“How’d you get home?”  
“I walked.” Dean stiffens beside him, and pulls him in tighter.  
“Why didn’t you call me? I work on cars, you know.”  
“I didn’t want to interrupt your day with Sam and Jess. It was no big deal, really.” Castiel feels like if Dean holds him any tighter he will lose all oxygen in his lungs, but Dean never lets go.  
“I’ll have Bobby pick it up. I can take a look at it when I head into work on Monday.”   
“Thank you, Dean.” Dean finally loosens his arms and Castiel readjusts to a more comfortable position, only to be pressed against Dean again.  
“I can take you to work too, if you need.”  
“Won’t you be late?” Castiel does not want Dean risking his position at Bobby’s just to drive Castiel to work.   
“Yeah, but Bobby will understand. Better than you missing a day,” he kisses Castiel’s nose and nuzzles his head against Castiel’s own.   
Castiel tightens his grip in Dean’s shirt now, touched by the offer. So far, Dean has given and given to Castiel and now he is sacrificing his time to help. Castiel regrets ever referring to Dean as the tempest; he is in fact the conferrer. He presses so close to Dean that he can smell his aftershave and feel the scratch of his stubble as he kisses up Dean’s neck until he reaches his lips. Dean presses his lips to his own and parts his lips to tickle his tongue against Castiel’s chapped lips. Castiel lets Dean explore and slide his tongue against his own because he wants Dean, all of Dean. He is panting when Dean parts and sits them both up so he is holding Castiel in his lap, resting against the arm of the couch. The sun illuminates all that is Dean, turning his eyes, his nose, and his lips into something all too surreal. Castiel kisses him again, this time softer, chaste.   
Castiel tries to push himself off the couch, says he needs to water the garden but Dean pulls him down again and says he has taken care of it. He tries again, says he has yet to eat breakfast, so Dean rolls him over and says he will make him something. Castiel loses his train of thought, caught up in the way Dean kisses down his neck and sucks at his collar bone. He scrapes his nails against Dean’s skin and holds tight while Dean sucks another bruise onto his skin.   
“Dean.” A plea that makes heat rise in his cheeks.  
“Oh fuck, sorry. Okay, breakfast,” Dean pushes himself off the couch and Castiel finally breathes.  
\--  
Castiel can smell bacon and eggs from the bathroom. He has finished his shower, reluctant to touch himself being wary of at least some of his morals. The burn in his gut died down when he reduced the temperature of the shower, offering some relief. In the mirror, he can see two marks along his collarbone. He smiles and turns his attention to his dresser. He dresses lazily, a t-shirt and sweat pants, because today is a day of rest and that is just what he will do.   
He follows the scent of breakfast down the stairs and finds Dean leaning against the counter, lazily flipping strips of bacon in a pan. On the table is Castiel’s mug full of coffee, black the way he likes it. Across from it rests Dean’s mug, nearly empty. Castiel takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee and sits in his seat, turning so that he faces Dean. Dean scrapes the browned bits of bacon onto a larger plate and settles it between their mugs. When he settles the plate of scrambled eggs next to it, Castiel catches his shirt and presses a kiss to his cheek. Dean chuckles and moves around the table to take his own seat. Castiel loves the way Dean’s eyes crinkle when he smiles like this.  
“What’s on your and Sam’s agenda today?”   
“Nothing, actually. He and Jess are going to see some new movie, something about sharks. Before that, they are just going to take the day and relax. They’re sleeping right now,” he pauses and slides a palm across the table to rest on Castiel’s. “I’m all yours today,” he smiles again and shovels a forkful of egg into his mouth.   
\--  
After breakfast, Castiel made sure to check on the garden, which was in good enough condition that he could retreat to his home and rest easy. He napped for a few hours, pulling Dean along, who conceded easily. He woke up when Dean began to snore in his ear, making him grumble roll away. Dean woke up to the movement and pressed himself along Castiel’s side, smothering him in his warmth again. Now, he is a tangle of limbs in his bed. Dean’s arm holds him snug to his side, preventing him from moving again.  
Warm breath puffs against his neck and makes him squirm. He can feel where Dean is hard against him, making his palms sweat. Castiel feels bad denying Dean every proposition, but he just is not ready. He tries to push away again, find some excuse to climb out of bed, but the idea of removing himself from Dean’s arms abominable one. He stares at the ceiling and configures patterns where the paint chips. The spots are few and make terrible patterns so he focuses on the spots the dot Dean’s face instead. They spread from the bridge of his nose and fan across his cheeks. They are a galaxy of constellations.  
Castiel starts slow, tracing the freckles with the tip of his finger. He glides his finger across his nose to his cheekbone, follows the trail down to his chin and back up to where one dots his bottom lip. He pulls his hand away when Dean shifts beside him and threatens to wake up again. Castiel starts up again on his cheek, this time tracing to his ear, then below his chin until he comes to the dip in his chest. He remembers that bruises that mark his own skin. He is tentative when he begins tracing his lips until he finds the spot when his jaw meets his neck and gently begins to suck. After a moment, strong arms grip into him and soon Dean’s hips are rocking against his. Castiel gasps and removes himself from Dean, putting a small distance between them. Dean does not open his eyes but he mutters sorry and kisses Castiel’s wrist.   
Castiel does not want Dean to feel sorry every time he becomes aroused in his company. Castiel should be sorry, for leading Dean on the way he does and leaving him dry. He wants to, he really does, and he is thankful each time Dean is understanding and gives him the space he requests. Dean is strong willed and soon Castiel can rest against him without the feeling of something prodding him.   
\--  
Dean wakes Castiel early the next morning for work. Castiel grumbles and tries to pull the pillow over his head but Dean steals it from him and pulls him to his feet. He still has his eyes closed when he is led to the bathroom and hears the sound of the water starting. He finally opens them to let Dean know he can take care of the rest on his own. Dean gives him a gentle smile and retreats to the kitchen to make them both coffees. Castiel is handed his when he walks into the kitchen. Dean informs him that he has watered the flowers and the garden and reports the progress of the pumpkins. The drive to work is not as smooth as he would prefer but he is grateful for the offer. Dean kisses him on the cheek before they part and the Impala rumbles when he pulls onto the road.   
Work is not as gracious as Castiel would like it to be. Hester prods him about returning to church, tells him that Samandriel has begun to worry about his whereabouts. Castiel stopped visiting him at work some while ago, when the younger man began dating he supposes. Guilt wells in him and he promises himself that he will visit this week, while Dean is busy with Sam and Jess. Hester will not let it go though, she pokes and prods and questions Castiel about why he left and wonders if something has happened in his life that she can help with. She cannot, Dean has filled that void for him. He wants to be polite, tell her about his whys, but Hester might not approve and that makes something swim in his stomach. He kindly tells her that he has papers to take care of and waits for her to turn on her heel and leave.   
His office is not much comfort, there are reports that need filed and statistics to run over that Castiel could not care about. He remembers when he enjoyed the ease of walking in and sitting on the phone all day, now he is a manager and has responsibilities. A folder slides off his desk while he tries to organize them but he ignores it for now. Castiel has found the more important documents and works on those until lunch rolls around. Dean calls him from Bobby’s garage with an update on his car.  
“It’s the spark plug. We’ll have to replace it.”  
“Is that going to be expensive?”  
“A little, yeah. Don’t worry though, Bobby says you can pay in small amounts if you need to, shouldn’t take more than a few weeks to pay off. Could have been worse though.”  
“Thank you, Dean, really.”  
“No problem, Cas. Hey, listen I gotta get back to work, Bobby’s hollering at me to get off the phone.”   
“Oh, sorry. I’ll see you after work?”  
“Yeah, I’ll be able to take you home but we won’t be able to hang out. Sam and I are going out for drinks, but Jess is staying in if you want to hang with her.”  
“Yes, that’ll be fine. Have fun tonight.”  
They say their goodbyes and Castiel feels empty, but not hungry. He works through his lunch hour and by the time he packs up his bag he has accomplished everything but the folder that he failed to retrieve from the floor. Nobody interrupts him today and he feels like he has been the most productive in months. If he keeps up his work ethic then perhaps he can get a raise and finally be able to replace his junker. He picks up the file that fell earlier and settles in on his desk, he will take care of it tomorrow.   
Castiel exhales and is relieved to finally leave work and see Dean before he leaves with Sam. Dean is sitting behind the wheel of the Impala looking as exhausted as Castiel feels. He thinks Dean should stay home tonight and get some rest, but Dean is an adult and can make his own choices. He slides into the leather seat and buckles his belt, only to be thrown against it when Dean begins driving. He will never get used to the force that the car can create.  
Dean talks about Castiel’s car, all the tune-ups it desperately needed, all taken care of, of course. Castiel thanks him. He is anxious to have his own car back but Dean says it will be another day of waiting while they get the appropriate part because Bobby’s garage is usually under stock. He nods in approval. Dean is careful not to get grease on Castiel’s work shirt when they kiss goodbye. He watches the car rumble out of sight after Sam climbs into it.  
\--  
Jess falls asleep after the second movie they watch, just before eleven. She spent most of her day pulling weeds from Castiel’s garden while he was at work. She even baked a new dish with the new tomatoes that have grown in and gave the recipe to Castiel when he decided he liked it. He has yet to cook anything on his own, just has a collection of recipes he one day hopes to put to use. Even as an adult, Castiel prefers someone to do the cooking for him while he watches and learns. Maybe one day he will force himself to put his equipment to use.  
Castiel’s own eyelids begin to droop and he can practically hear Dean whisper for him to stay awake. He can feel his breath beat against his neck, making his skin crawl. He shifts, uncomfortable, on the couch and is thankful Jess took the other couch to herself. No matter how hard he wills, he cannot shake the feeling of Dean’s hands ghosting over his skin, tracing the contours of his chest. He wants them lower, everywhere all at once and just taking him apart inch by inch. He wills the thoughts away when he hears the guiding voice of Michael telling him that sex is immoral before marriage, forbidden between man and man. Castiel thinks that he does not truly care though, but his thoughts are tainted either way.  
Dean and Sam are still at the bar when he walks to his house, alone, and they are still gone when he wraps himself in cold sheets. He wishes Dean was beside him, making some joke that he does not understand. Even just being there would be nice. The slide of the sheets against him feel unnatural, a tightening vice. He wants to kick them off but he will only shiver again if he does. He gives up and falls asleep to deafening silence.   
\--  
On the following weekend, Castiel makes a trip to the fast food joint Samandriel works at to pay him a visit. Samandriel is talking to a customer who is having difficulty seeing the menu. He patiently reads off the items and what they include to the elderly woman and hands her change over when she is done. He is still smiling when Castiel takes his place in line, even when Castiel informs him, apologetically, that he is unsure when he will be returning to church. Samandriel informs him that he prays for him, and hopes whatever is troubling him is resolved. Castiel wants to tell him that no pressing issue he needs prayed for, but Samandriel’s eyes are kind so he settles on ordering a hot dog instead.   
When most of the customers have shuffled to their seats, trays in hand, Samandriel steps from behind the counter and finds his way to Castiel’s seat. He has a look on his face that makes Castiel squirm against the booth. The bite of his hot dog slides down roughly, paining his throat. He sets it down to give his full attention to the young man and hopes that whatever he has to say will be quick. The first words tell him that this conversation will not be done and over with anytime soon though.   
“So, are you gay, Castiel?” Castiel chokes on his own saliva and beats his chest,  
“Um, why do you ask?”  
“Others have seen you with Dean Winchester, the one from the bad films. Small town. They are concerned for your soul, fearing his presence will taint it. They think he has already begun to.”  
Castiel wants this conversation to end now but he respects Samandriel so he tries to answer his questions as best he can. He wipes his hands on a napkin and tosses it on his tray. Loose paint sails to the floor as he scrapes a fingernail across it.   
“Dean and I are…together. That would make me gay I suppose.” He clears his throat and looks at Samandriel’s face for a reaction. “As for the state of my soul, it is in good condition. I know what I am doing with Dean is considered blasphemous.” He pauses, still no reaction. “What Dean did in those films was purely for the sake of helping his family. He was pressed on his luck and took the first offer. His life has not always been simple as yours or mine.”  
Samandriel pushes a packet of salt across the table, between his fingers. “I understand then.”  
Castiel squints and examines the boy’s face for any further reaction. Surely, he would like to say more or question Castiel further. Nothing comes. Samandriel only places the salt packet on his tray and returns to his position behind the register. Castiel is unsure how to interpret the action. Is he okay with his choice or not? Castiel huffs frustrated and empties his tray in the garbage, no longer hungry. While he is leaving, Samandriel offers a smile and waves. He tells Castiel to visit him more often if we will not be attending church.   
\--  
Pumpkins have begun to sprout when Sam and Jess take their leave to return to school. They are small buds that barely weigh anything in Castiel’s palm. He worries they will not be ready before the frost sets in and mentally wills them to grow faster. This may be his first crop to fail which makes him anxious. He simply wants them to flourish. Each day he takes care, pruning the vines, watering them appropriately and fertilizing them. Dean even worries over them, asking Castiel if they are supposed to take this long to sprout.  
The tomatoes continue to give produce and for that, he is thankful. What grows before Jess leaves, he gives to her to use for her final meal in Castiel’s kitchen. She tells she will miss him and that if he does not call occasionally she will disappointed. He promises to call and she leaves him with the recipes she has collected over the summer. Sam pats his shoulder roughly and gives him the same speech. Castiel wishes he had something to give Sam in turn for his kindness over the past couple of months but he comes up empty.   
After they leave, Dean sulks around Castiel’s house for a couple of days. He eats Castiel’s food, uses his bathroom and even does his chores. Castiel hurts for Dean, so he does not mind when he spends more days sleeping in his bed than not. He does not even complain the first time he has to put his new plunger to use. To be honest, he enjoys having the company, even when he does mundane things like review paperwork and make business calls.   
Dean replaces the shelf in the kitchen and fixes up a few other areas that need tending too. He replaces the light bulb Castiel forgot about over a month ago. When he comes across the supplies for the wreath, he gives Castiel a curious look. Castiel tries to explain that it was a project for when Dean was busy, making blood rush to his cheeks at a quick pace. The finished piece rests on the porch next to the door and he tells Dean he will put it up eventually. Dean just smirks and shakes his head.  
Another week passes and Dean continues to stay in Castiel’s house more often than not. He spends so much time in the garden that Castiel is beginning to forget what the plants looked like. At night, he will venture into the yard to make sure Dean is doing a good job at keeping the plants alive. The pumpkins are still small, but they are growing. Dean begins to cook him breakfast regularly, he even uses the tomatoes in his scrambled eggs. Castiel enjoys being cooked for, but he still has to learn to make the meals Jess left him. So far, the recipes rest on his counters, or stick to the fridge.  
Castiel starts with lunch, prepping the salad Jess taught him to make. It is simple compared to the tomato and ham pie he tries to recreate next. Jess makes cooking look so easy when she is in his kitchen. The tomatoes do not lay as flat as she made them, nor does the sautéed ham and onions smell as wonderful. The crust proves to be too difficult so he settles on a store bought one and hopes Dean cannot tell the difference. When he is done, the bottom bares small singes, along with the top crust. Dean eats it anyways and kisses Castiel between mouthfuls.   
\--  
At night, Dean hogs most of the blankets making Castiel shiver at the first fall wind. He curls closer, looking for warmth, to be met with a drooling Dean. He wipes his face with Dean’s shirt and flips his pillow. Castiel tugs at the sheets until they finally slip from Dean’s grip, making him grumble. He rolls closer to Castiel and presses him firmly into his chest. Even through the morning breath, Castiel has a desire to kiss his stupidly pink lips. He inches up until he is level with his face and presses a, what he intended to be quick, kiss. Dean has other plans though, pressing against his lips until his tongue slips in.   
Castiel lets Dean explore his mouth; he even lets him roll his hips against his own. The press of his own erection against Dean’s makes him moan and grip the front of Dean’s shirt. He should stop, tell Dean that they should stop but when Dean bites the sensitive spot below his ear, he gives in to Dean’s touches. Dean cants his hips into Castiel’s making his grip tighten. Dean pushes Castiel’s shirt up with gentle fingers and Castiel whispers his approval, a gentle go-ahead. He kisses from Castiel’s lips down to his hips, urgency makes him sloppy and Castiel silently wishes for him to slow down.   
When Dean’s fingertips brush beneath his boxes, Castiel grips his chin in light palms and pulls him back up. Castiel wants to let Dean come, but not like that, not yet. He releases a shallow breath and returns to kissing Dean. Their hips slot together and Dean sets a steady rhythm that makes Castiel writhe and pant against his lips. Dean brushes his sweat-matted hair from his forehead and places a kiss on his temple. Castiel’s hips buck against Dean’s and he loses his own rhythm quickly. His body comes to a stuttering stop and he gasps when he comes, unaware it could feel so invigorating when his own hands were not the culprit. He shuts his eyes and waits for his breath to catch up with him before sliding a nervous hand into Dean’s underpants.   
Dean gasps and squeezes the pillows beside Castiel’s head. He guides Castiel to grip him tighter as he rocks his hips into his fist, pushing himself to his own completion. The bed creaks and Castiel wonders if it’s old frame would stand up to anything further. Castiel can feel the liquid cool on his stomach before Dean collapses against him. He presses lazy kisses to Castiel’s cheeks and neck until his breath is steady again. Dean uses his own shirt to clean them both and tosses it to the floor when he is done. Castiel slides into his place under the sheets and Dean wraps his arm around him before falling asleep.  
In the morning, Castiel showers off the remnants from the previous night and marvels the new bruises that line his stomach and neck. Dean helps Castiel put the new hook on the porch and Castiel hands him the birdhouse. When it rests in its place, they both watch as a pair of small birds pick up and claim the home as their own. One settles on the porch and squawks at other birds if they come to close. The other brings leaves and stems to build a nest from, dropping them in the opening, before leaving to retrieve more. Castiel thanks Dean for the gift again and offers to make breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conferrer means giver


	6. Two Way Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I think I'm ready   
> To let you get under my skin  
> I can't make you fall for me  
> -Kimbra

Books are scattered across Castiel’s floor when Dean comes over on a Saturday. He mutters a hello and returns to sorting out his collection. Most of his reading material is from when he was younger, books his mother gave him that teach good morals. Books about why lying is wrong, stories about God’s love and multiple copies that describe the commandments as well as other wrongs and rights listed in the bible, all spelled out so a young boy can understand them. All of them, rules that forced Castiel to deny his own desires to submit to the way he was to behave. Castiel wants them out of his house so he can stop being reminded of the life he was supposed the live, the sudden weight of what he is turning his back on crushing him.   
Dean strips out of his flannel and lays it on the back of the couch, where he sits and watches Castiel drop books from one pile to another. Another reminder of the fulfillment he denied all thanks to the morals he was trying to hold onto, because, if he is honest, following blindly was easier than making his own decisions. Being directed on what to do by his parents and siblings was always easier. He will not deny that the Lord he followed was good to him, but he did not choose this life. Castiel is an adult now, he has wants and needs and Dean is all of them.   
The books shake in his hands as he picks them up, reads the covers, the back covers, and the beginning paragraphs. He cannot read passed the first sentences before he wants to drop them and never look at them again. He keeps the others separate, his mother’s cookbooks, coloring books from when he would get bored, tips on home décor (his mother’s), and other books he bought purely to learn from. Books that he has highlighted with pages wrinkled from use and notes written in his handwriting. He really only meant to rid of the children’s stories, but now nearly every religious book he owns sits in a pile he will discard. He will drop them off in the donation box at his church and hope they find better use for them.   
Dean’s hands are warm over his own and Castiel wonders when Dean moved from the couch. He furrows his eyebrows and stares at the hands that are overlapping his. A shelf of books still needs sorting through before he is done; he can focus on Dean later. He pulls his hands from Dean’s and reaches for the next book, but Dean grabs his wrists and tugs them away. When he looks up, Dean looks concerned, green eyes searching his own. Castiel is sure he looks like a mess, after waking up early that morning and tending to the garden, he abandoned his shower to purge his bookshelf. His hair, tousled from sweat and bed rest, and his clothes covered in dirt, sweat, and leaves. Dean pushes a hand through his hair and it tugs uncomfortably making Castiel wince.   
“Hey, you okay?” His voice is soft and rough and Castiel never wants him to stop speaking.  
“I’m fine, Dean. Just let me finish and we can do whatever.” He tries to tug his hand away, but Dean still has a grasp on it so he uses his free hand to open another book. Dean swats it away and grabs his other wrist again.  
“Yeah, sure you are. I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past five minutes and you sat there like you didn’t even hear me.” Dean smoothes his palms over Castiel’s cheeks and rubs beneath his jaw with his thumbs. “Talk to me.”  
“Sorry. I’m just trying to clean my shelves. I guess I got distracted.”  
“Yeah and you’re throwing out your bibles,” he motions at them with a hand. “That’s not like you, Cas. What happened? Are you okay? Is it me? Because if it is Cas, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to ruin this thing you got going on. I can just go, I don’t want- you don’t have to change you know.” Dean slides his palms from Castiel’s cheeks down to his shoulders and grips them before dropping them into his lap. He stares at his upturned palms for a while and Castiel decides he never wants to hear Dean say he is sorry ever again.   
Castiel slides across a pile of old magazines until he is close enough to wrap Dean’s arms around himself and slide into his lap. He presses kisses to Dean’s hair and wraps his arms around his shoulders. Dean cradles his head in the crook of Castiel’s neck and he can feel his breath, warm, a constant stop start stream on his skin. He shudders at the touch, and squeezes his eyes shut to focus.   
“Don’t be sorry, don’t ever be sorry.” His voice muffled in Dean’s hair. “I just need to do this; it’s not you I promise.”  
“Then what is it, because you got me a little worried, buddy.” Castiel takes a moment before speaking again.  
“This isn’t who I want to be anymore, I don’t think it’s who I’ve ever wanted to be.”  
“Who do you want to be?”  
“I-I’m not sure. But I am not my mother and I am not my brothers. I’m just me.” He can feel Dean’s nod against his shoulder.  
They sit and hold each other in the quiet hum of Castiel’s house. Eventually, Dean peels Castiel off his lap so he can start lunch while Castiel finishes his sorting. The house fills with the aroma of spaghetti and garlic bread, maybe Dean used the last of the tomatoes in the sauce. Castiel finally has all the books he wants to get rid of in a pile by his door and is restacking the rest, in alphabetical order, when Dean tells him the food is ready. Dean kneels beside Castiel and holds out a hand for the next book. They finish restacking the books together.  
At the table, Dean has their places set, along with a glass of tea for them both. On occasion, Castiel will let Dean bring beer into his home but Dean has cut back recently. Castiel is happy to know that Dean will be sober for the remainder of the day. They eat and Dean asks him about the pumpkins and if Castiel thinks they will have maybe even one before the ground is too cold. Castiel tells him they have the starting of a small one that should grow to an adequate size and he crosses his fingers that it will flourish.   
While Dean washes the dishes, Castiel snakes his arms around his waist and presses into his warmth. He whispers a thank you and presses a kiss to the back of Dean’s neck. He is unaware what he is thanking him for, but feels the need to, Dean nods anyways.   
\--  
Going back to church is a more difficult task than Castiel originally contemplated. The plan was simple, walk into the church while in service, drop off the books, and return home with Dean. Unfortunately, Castiel miscalculated the time service would take place and when the crowd would be in their pews. Wondering in a few minutes early means he is spotted, no one too important, just a few of the attendees. The room where the donation box sits is where Hester finds him though. A few people chatting and she knew exactly when he arrived, what he was wearing and where he was.  
Castiel tries to make a neat pile of books in the bin when he hears Hester’s footsteps behind him. He short heels hard to ignore in the quiet spaces of the room. He sighs and finishes laying the last of his books in the box, swiveling on his heel to face her. Castiel may be Hester’s boss at work, but Hester holds more authority in the church, benefits of being the daughter of the reverend. Castiel tries to think of anything that will make this conversation shorter so he can get back in his car and drive the short road home. Hester squints at him, analyzing his appearance he realizes.   
“What are you wearing, Castiel?”  
“Gardening, I was gardening, which is why I’m wearing this. I wanted to drop these off before-“  
“Before any of us could catch you,” she accuses.  
“No. Yes. I’m going now.” Hester blocks the path with her small frame.   
“Castiel, I’m worried about you. You quit coming to church, you’re donating your books, along with your bibles. Samandriel tells me that you-you’re…” she bites he lip and breaks eye contact. “Why didn’t you come to us for guidance?”  
Castiel ponders the questions and remembers the days he spent on his knees before the altar, praying, seeking a way to push away the impure thoughts. He remembers the countless scriptures he scribbled down and left stuck to his fridge, the radio in his car, the mirror in his bathroom. Anywhere he could see and remember that the person he has become is wrong. Then one day, he did not need the reminders anymore, he did not need to repent anymore, he did not need to make himself feel like any enemy when all he did was fall for Dean. Castiel rests his palms on Hester’s shoulders and squeezes lightly.  
“In another life, I could have loved you, married you, had children with you, or a woman as kind. Then I would resent myself along with all the parts of me I would have to hide. I would hate myself more than you disapprove of me now,” he drops his hands to his sides. “I hope one day that you can see that I don’t need to repent or drop to my knees anymore. I accept myself, and even if our Lord cannot forgive me that will not change the way I feel.” Hester watches his back as he moves passed her and walks out the front door.   
No longer wanting to talk with Hester, he keeps a quick pace. Castiel balls his hands into fists and swallows any resentment that claws under his skin. He slides along the leather seats of the Impala until his hip rubs against Dean’s own. Dean slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He cocks an eyebrow at the looks on Castiel’s face, rubbing a thumb across his furrowed brows.   
“Everything okay?”  
“Some of the people I attended church with are unhappy with me. One in particular wanted to talk with me before I left.”  
“You do something wrong?”  
“I don’t think so, but they would beg to differ.” Dean rubs his shoulder and starts the Impala with a rumble.  
\--  
Castiel shivers at the fall wind watching Dean trudge away in the garden. The ground is still warm under his feet and he hopes that means his pumpkins will have extra time to grow. He watches the muscles beneath Dean’s shirt shift, stuck to his skin with sweat. The breeze is nice but Dean is working the garden by himself, his treat to Castiel for reasons he has yet to reveal. Castiel grumbled but stopped when Dean made him a full breakfast, pancakes, eggs, fruit, whipped cream, hot chocolate, the works. He sits, arms crossed snug to his body, at the edge of the garden so his feet rest in the turned soil. Even if Dean insists on doing all the work, Castiel will still watch over his garden.  
Once Dean is done, he tosses his gloves to the side and scoops Castiel in his arms. Castiel only has a moment to wrap his own arms around Dean’s neck and hold tight. He reminds Dean that he has feet and can walk but Dean insists on carrying him the whole pathway into the house, up the stairs, and lays him on the bed. Even though Castiel is sure Dean’s arms are sore, he does not want to let go. He drags Dean down with him and clutches him to his chest. Dean laughs against his shirt and pushes up on his elbows to look at him better. Castiel brushes his hands through Dean’s hair and gets lost in his everything.  
“Why are you being so nice today?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, making me breakfast, tending to the garden, carrying me to bed. Why are you treating me like this? Did you break something?”  
“No.” Dean rubs the corner of the sheet between his fingers. “I just wanted to do something nice.”  
“You’re always doing something nice.”  
“Yeah. That a bad thing?”  
“No. It’s great. Just, you don’t have to all the time. You can let me take care of you once in a while.”  
“But that’s not as fun,” he cocks his eyebrow and lifts off the bed.  
“Where are you going?”  
“I’m drawing you a bath, your highness ass could use one.”  
“Dean,” he drawls.  
“You do.”  
Castiel can hear water running in the bathroom along with the clink of plastic bottles opening. The smell of something flowery or fruity floats into his room and he tries to think of what it is. The bed dips around him, fits his frame well, and he groans at the thought of getting up. Maybe Dean will carry him to the bathroom too. He huffs a sigh, pushes himself from mattress, and walks the few steps to the bathroom.   
Dean has his hand under the faucet, testing the temperature, when he walks in the too small room. Castiel pieces together what the flowery/fruity scent is when he sees the bubbles filling the tub. The thought of Dean making him a bubble bath makes Castiel laugh. Dean turns at the noise and smiles in his direction. His smile drops, though, when Castiel begins peeling out of his shirt, following with his pants until he is standing naked and dipping a foot in the water. Dean’s eyes watch his movements until his torso submerges under water. Castiel watches as Dean pulls his own shirt off, and realizes too late that Dean is going to try to squeeze into the tub with him. The space is cramped and he is positive their bodies cannot both fit.   
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m coming in, scoot up.”  
“I can bathe myself, Dean.” He can feel the heat rising under his skin higher the closer Dean gets and scoots foreword, despite his own reservations. The water sloshes against the edge of the tub as Dean lays himself behind him, stretching his legs along his own. Castiel settles against him.  
“Trust me, it’s better with help,” his arms wrap around Castiel’s waist and pull him close. Castiel can practically hear the lust in Dean’s voice, confirmed by the hard on that presses against him. His own body betrays him when Dean rests his palms on his thighs and rubs circles with his thumbs.   
“Dean, I’m not sure what you’re doing.” Dean kisses the back of his neck and pulls his hands away. Castiel misses the touch.  
Instead, Dean pulls a cup from the floor and fills it with water. He guides Castiel to tip his head back until he can rinse it, shampoo it, and rinse it again. He does the same process with the conditioner. He uses Castiel’s body wash to rubs smooth circles into his back that have Castiel purring against him. He rubs the body wash into his chest and arms and any other skin he can reach before rinsing it off. Castiel’s skin feels too cold as Dean washes the mornings work from his skin behind him, but is warm again when Dean finishes and drapes a towel over his head.   
Castiel scoops up the towel and carefully steps out of the tub and dries himself off while Dean does the same. Castiel keeps his back turned and wills his body to listen to him, only to be disappointed. All he can think about is Dean and Dean’s hands. Something warm keeps spinning in his gut, leaving him painfully hard. He drops his towel and pulls Dean’s towel from his hands, earning him a scowl, which quickly changes when Dean sees that he is still naked as well. Castiel runs gentle hands along Dean’s torso, unsure of where to go from this point. Dean does, so Dean lifts him until his legs circle his waist and carries him into the bedroom.  
Dean covers his body with his own, something Castiel enjoys, the press of skin against skin. Dean’s skin is still moist and he slides against Castiel’s with ease, kissing along his torso and biting at his neck. Castiel cannot stop the moan that escapes him when Dean licks across his nipple. Dean stifles a groan in returns and turns his attention to the other, sucking and licking until it is tender to the touch. The need only builds higher in Castiel and he grows tired of Dean’s teasing quickly, drawing him up to lick inside his mouth impatiently. Dean rubs against him and Castiel finally has friction, ripping another moan from his throat.  
Dean is perched above him on his elbows brushing the hair from forehead, every moment of so he will rub their hips together and make Castiel moan. His eyes try to fall shut but he wants to keep them open because Dean has never looked so beautiful. His eyelids droop and water is dripping from his hair, making Castiel shiver when the drops land on him. Dean’s face is flushed, making his freckles stand out in contrast. He licks his lips and lowers himself to kiss Castiel, his teeth catch his bottom lip when he pulls away and Castiel moans again. Castiel’ senses are going wild, he runs his hands along Dean’s arms and torso but nothing is enough, he cannot get enough of Dean.  
“Dean,” he says breathlessly.  
“Hm?” Dean is leaving kisses along Castiel’s jaw line, hips working lazily.   
“I, uh, I think I’m ready,” the last words falls from his lips so quietly he wonders if Dean even heard him. Dean’s body goes still above him and he searches Castiel’s eyes.  
“You sure?”  
He exhales. “Yeah.”  
Dean slides off him, he seems to be looking for something and Castiel cocks his head to the side. The fire has reduced to a controllable degree but he would still much rather have Dean leaning over him again.   
“Dean?”  
“Yeah, give me a minute.”  
“What are you looking for?” Dean stops in the middle of the room and his face flushes again.   
“Uh, lube Cas, we need lube.” He coughs and settles on the bed at Castiel’s feet.  
“Oh.” Castiel ponders the thought for a moment. He had never thought about that, he knows little about sex and scorns himself for not preparing. “I didn’t know that.”  
“Yeah, I know.” He signs and rubs Cas’ shins. “I probably have some at home, if you don’t mind the wait.” He leans forward and catches Castiel’s lips in a kiss. “Like two minutes tops.” He runs his hands up Castiel’s thighs and back down again. Castiel’s breath catches.  
“Do we really need it?” Dean kisses along the inside of his thigh.   
“Yeah, we really need it. I don’t want to hurt you your first time.” He kisses up his other thigh.  
“One minute.”  
“One minute.” Dean throws on a pair of Castiel’s sweat pants from the floor and runs out of the room. Castiel counts out the seconds and tries to breathe again while he waits for Dean. He nails scrape in the comforter and he watches the minute tick on his alarm clock. Finally he can hear the sound of Dean’s feet hitting his steps, his breathing is harsh from running and he wastes no time throwing his pants off. They end up in the far corner of Castiel’s room. The bed dips where Dean begins his climb.   
“Miss me?” He begins sucking a bruise on Castiel’s hipbone.  
“Dean,” his name comes out more of a moan.  
“Fuck, Cas.”Castiel can hear the click of the bottle Dean is holding and his body shivers at the first press of Dean’s finger against him. “Tell me if you want to stop, anytime, just say it.” Castiel nods.  
At first, Dean just circles his hole with a slick finger. It takes him a moment to relax and then Dean presses the finger in and Castiel has to fight not to clench around it. He sucks in breath after breath until the burn becomes bearable Dean presses a second finger against him and kisses his neck. Castiel can only nod when Dean asks him if he is okay. The second finger slides in with less ease but soon Castiel is a writhing mess. His hands search for purchase anywhere he can find. He grips Dean’s skin, claws up his back and bucks his hips when Dean hits a new spot inside of him. Dean chuckles against his skin and continues to press at the spot, ripping moan after moan from Castiel’s throat.   
“Dean, I think I’m ready,” he says between breaths.  
Dean’s fingers linger inside of him a while longer, scissoring and stretching to make sure he will not be hurt. Dean slips his fingers free and Castiel’s body chases after them. Dean kisses him sloppily and Castiel can hear him open the bottle again before it is tossed to the floor. Castiel can feel him line up and he tries to relax, sucking in deep breaths. At first, everything burns and nothing feels right. He clenches around the tip and wants to push Dean out again but Dean slides in slowly and settles between his thighs, pressing kisses to Castiel’s nose, cheeks, and lips; any skin he can reach he kisses.   
After a few moments pass, the burn begins to feel good and Castiel wriggles his body. Dean holds his hips still and starts a slow rhythm, gliding in and out as gently as possible. The movement is so minimal that it begins to drive Castiel crazy, he wants more; he wants everything Dean has to offer. He lifts his legs, wraps them around Dean, and pushes him closer. Dean picks up his rhythm but he is still so gentle and Castiel appreciates the sentiment but he needs more so he pushes Dean even closer. He can hear Dean curse and moan his name in his ear. Dean begins to thrust harder and faster and the moans fall from Castiel’s tongue so fluidly.  
Dean re-adjusts so he can wrap his arms under Castiel’s shoulders, when he presses in again Castiel moans so loud it is nearly a shout. Dean keeps the angle, pressing into the spot. He pulls an arm free and works Castiel’s cock, stroke after maddening stroke, until he is coming, spilling over his chest and hand. Dean comes shortly after and his chest rests against Castiel’s while he catches his breath. When his breathing is normal, Dean pulls out and rolls him and Castiel to their sides so that they are facing.   
Castiel knows they need to clean up but his body feels like liquid. Dean gets up anyways and fishes his towel from the bathroom, when he is done cleaning them both off he throws it on the floor and tells Castiel they can clean up later. He pulls Castiel to his chest and holds him close. Castiel feels like he should say something, but the words are caught in his throat. He burrows his head in Dean’s chest and mumbles them against his skin and presses a kiss over them.  
“What?”  
“I love you, Dean.”  
Dean is quiet and Castiel wonders if he crossed a line. He closes his eyes and tries to will his heart rate to a normal pace. It feels like a jackhammer under his skin, fighting and clawing to break through the surface. He thinks Dean must have stopped breathing, decides whether Dean says them back or not the words are true and he does not, will not take them back. Dean pulls him tighter against him.  
“I love you too, Cas,” the words are just above a whisper but Castiel can feel them burning in his veins, igniting him. He feels them climb through his skin and work their way into his blood stream. He can feel them climb down his esophagus and beat against his ribs. He finally feels them settle in the pit of his stomach like bees fighting for an exit they will never find and he is okay with them fluttering, does not mind being full of Dean.  
\--  
“Dean,” Cas calls for him from the kitchen.   
Dean is in the living room hooking up a TV he insisted Castiel needed. Castiel just shrugged his shoulder and let Dean do as he pleased. He does not have cable, but Dean said that did not matter if they attach a DVD player. Dean owns all of his favorite movies and if they want to watch anything else, they can rent it from the store or watch it at Dean’s house.  
Dean connects the DVD player to the TV and turns it on to make sure it works before going into the kitchen. Cas is leaning against the counter, in front of the sink, with a grin that goes from ear to ear. He motions with a hand for Dean to come closer, Dean raises an eyebrow and takes a tentative step. Castiel huffs a sigh and motions with both hands for him to come closer.   
“Come here,” he draws out the syllables.  
When Dean is standing in front of him and steps behind Dean so he can see what he has behind his back. Sitting on the counter is the only pumpkin they managed to grow successfully. The others stopped when the chill was too much and the soil was too cold, but Castiel was able to find, and nurse one until he could press his nail into its side and find tough skin. Dean was sure it was going to die like the others but Castiel continued to care for it, hoping and praying. Dean stares at it a moment and then at Castiel, then back at the pumpkin. The smile on his face grows as he turns and picks Castiel up in his arms kissing his nose.  
“Can we make pie?”  
Castiel laughs. “No Dean, but we can have a jack-o-lantern and pumpkin seeds.” Dean pouts and let’s Castiel slide from his arms onto the tile floor.  
“No pie?”  
“We can buy one,” he pushes Dean to the side and grabs a knife from its holding place.   
“Can we make one?” Dean pulls the knife from his hand and begins carving the top off in a neat circle.  
“We can if you help. Next weekend when we have more time, I promise.” Castiel begins scooping the pumpkin guts into a bowl.   
“Yes, I love me some pumpkin pie.” He washes the knife and returns it to its place. “How are you going to separate the seeds?”  
“I don’t know.” Castiel sits the pumpkin on the counter. “I’ve never done this before actually,” he stares at the pumpkin quizzically.  
“You’ve never carved pumpkins before?” Dean’s jaw drops to the floor. He pushes Castiel to the side with his hip and continues gutting the pumpkin into the bowl.   
“I come from a religious family that does not believe in Halloween. My parents think of it as a sort of devil worship.”  
“Seriously? So you never went trick or treating, like ever?”  
“No, my brother did. He has a sweet tooth. “  
“Which brother is that?” Dean finishes scooping out the insides, pulls a second bowl from the cabinet, and begins picking out the seeds. Castiel sits at the table and watches.  
“Gabriel, he’s the trouble maker of our family.” Dean laughs at that.   
“Sounds like my type of guy.” Castiel’s face falls.  
“I’m kidding Cas,” he walks across the kitchen and drops a kiss on Castiel’s cheek. “You’re my kind of guy,” he wipes a pumpkin gut covered hand on Castiel’s cheek.  
“Oh, Dean,” Castiel wipes his cheek on his sleeve. Dean continues separating the pumpkin seeds until he has a bowl full of them and a bowl full of guts. He tosses the guts in the trash.   
“You know how to cook these?”   
“I’m sure they will need washed first.” Castiel grabs the bowl and turns on the sink, rinsing the remaining bits of pumpkin from the seeds.   
While Castiel looks up how to cook pumpkin seeds on his laptop, Dean traces a pattern onto the pumpkins face. Castiel gave him full liberty with the carving, as long as it was appropriate (after Dean mentioned designs of the phallic variety). He is busy spreading them on the cooking sheet when he hears Dean laugh.  
“What did you do?”  
“Nothing, don’t look, I’m not done yet.”  
Castiel squints at him but focuses on the pumpkin seeds. He shakes some oil on them and salt, then sets the sheet in the oven to cook. Dean still has not started carving so Castiel decides to wander over and see what he is doing.  
“Dean! What is that?” Dean turns around and hugs the pumpkin behind his back.  
“You weren’t supposed to look yet.”  
“What is that?” Dean moves to the side and points out the parts as he describes them.  
“There’s you, your wings and halo, ‘cause you’re an angel,” he kisses his nose. “And that’s a burger that you’re eating because you like those.”  
“Dean, you are ridiculous.”  
Dean shrugs and continues to finish his drawing. Castiel sits at the tables and watches as he drags his pocketknife along the lines, carving out the pieces to get his desired shapes. Dean’s hands are gentle as he works and Castiel finds himself lost in a trance until Dean flips his knife shut and steps back.   
“What do you do now?”  
“We need a candle.”   
Castiel searches through his hall closet until he finds a pack of small candles with enough wax to light for a day or two. He hands it over to Dean. Dean pockets it and carries the pumpkin out to Castiel’s porch. He sets the pumpkin down on a step and lays the candle inside. Castiel runs back inside and grabs a lighter from a drawer. Dean lights the candles and guides Castiel to stand in front of the pumpkin with him.   
“This is what it’s supposed to look like.” He rubs his palms on Castiel’s shoulders to keep him warm in the fall air.   
“It’s beautiful.” Dean snorts. “I’m serious Dean, I like it.” Dean blows out the candle and suggests dinner.


	7. A Home of Our Own

Castiel pulls at the strap wrapped around his shoulder. It squeezes under his armpit, making him hold his arms uncomfortably at his sides. The fabric tickles his calves as Dean slides a belt around his waist, synching the fabric at his waist. When Dean gets the belt buckled, he stands back to examine Castiel’s costume. Castiel takes his eyebrow raise to mean the dress looks good. He grumbles and pulls at the top layer of fabric, a sheer blue, and rubs the material between his fingers.  
“Is it customary to wear a dress?” He asks, dropping the fabric back to his sides.   
“Is it customary to invite your brother to go trick-or-treating? You’re an angel Cas, angel’s wear heavenly garments or whatever.”  
Castiel rolls his eyes and plops onto his couch. Ever since Castiel mentioned he never went trick-or-treating as a child, Dean has made his life goal to take him at least once. Castiel does not mind the candy, or the idea of giving it away to children, but wearing a dress just seemed unconventional. Add the wings to his back and the whole outfit just makes him want to shed off his clothes and go naked. Not to mention, the seams of the dress rub against his skin, making him itch due to their poor design. Castiel wriggles on the couch and pulls at the straps again.  
“Stop fidgeting, you’re going to rip your dress before we even get to the good part.”  
“Yeah little bro, lighten up. It’s Halloween not your high school prom,” Gabriel pipes in from the kitchen, snacking on the pumpkin pie Castiel and Dean made together.   
When Castiel mentioned Halloween to Gabriel, on the phone a week back, he demanded Castiel invite him on his first trip. Castiel made accommodations, Gabriel took off work, and Gabriel has been staying on Castiel’s couch since. Gabriel and Dean did not get along well, between Gabriel eating Dean’s pie and Dean making fun of Gabriel’s short stature, their friendship was at a standstill. Eventually, Castiel smacked them both on the back of the head and told them to stop acting like children. They grumbled about it, but Gabriel quit hiding Dean’s keys and Dean stopped threatening to flush Gabriel’s phone down the toilet.   
Castiel enjoys seeing his brother again, but his constant pranks wear him thin. Gabriel has to sleep on the couch until he nearly caught fire to a pancake on Castiel’s stove. Castiel insisted he sleep upstairs so that Castiel can monitor his home at all times, keeping Gabriel out of the kitchen as well. Now Gabriel wakes him in the middle night when he wants something to eat. Sleep deprivation aside, Castiel hardly gets to see Dean with Gabriel over. Gabriel insists on taunting and teasing the two about their relationship and speaking about how he never imagined Castiel to be the type for hunky guys who work on cars all day. If they stand too close to each other, Gabriel throws a comment about certain BDSM acts or makes other sexual innuendos that make Castiel’s face turn the color red.   
Dean even called Sam to tell him what they were going to do. Sam just laughed and talked about how ridiculous of an idea it was. Jess had her own opinion though, saying that it would be fun for Castiel to collect candy and embrace his inner child. She and Sam will be attending a party to celebrate Halloween as well as Sam’s test scores. He and Jess passed their bar exams and in no time they will off to law school. Dean promises to celebrate with them both when they have their next break from school. Sam has to rush off the phone to help Jess with her costume so they can make their party on time.   
Castiel huffs and sinks further into the couch. Because he and Dean never planned to actually trick-or-treat, he was stuck in an angel costume that Gabriel happened to have double of, one his own and one belonging to an ex of his. Castiel’s small frame fit into the female’s costume, but the additional strips of fabric hang loose and tangle between his arms and legs. Dean, thinking on his feet, greased his hair to the side, rolled up the hem of his jeans, threw on a leather jacket, and exclaimed he was a greaser. Castiel has to admit Dean looks good in tight jeans, even better, with his hair done, he is jealous he did not think of the idea himself. Dean kneels in front of him and straightens the halo on his head, distracting Castiel with his cologne and soft fingers.  
“I look ridiculous,” Castiel finally decides, pulling the fabric from his thighs.  
“No, you look great,” Dean stands and turns on Gabriel at the entrance of the kitchen. “And you, need to quit eating my pie,” he grabs what is left on Gabriel’s plate and shoves it in his mouth before he can argue.  
“What a bag of dicks,” Gabriel mutters under his breath as he sets the plate into the sink.  
“How much longer until we start collecting candy?”  
“Like an hour maybe, the sun looks like it’s starting to set though.” Dean pulls the curtain back and checks out the window. The sky is an array of colors, ranging from hues of red, orange, blue and gray. The faint flicker from the jack-o-lantern reflects on the glass, illuminating Dean’s features.  
“Why are we dressed so early then?” Castiel pulls the hem of the dress over his knees so he can tuck his legs under himself and sit more comfortably.   
“I just wanted to see you in that dress,” Dean smirks and drops a kiss on Castiel’s forehead.  
“Oh you guys are disgusting,” Gabriel jokes. When Dean glares at him, he winks.  
“Didn’t stop you from watching,” Dean plops onto the cushion beside Castiel and winds an arm around his waist, pulling him close.  
“We need something to do before then,” Castiel decides. With Dean wound tight and Gabriel running his mouth with no stop in sight, they need a distraction.   
“Yeah and we could get to it if the half-pint across the room would leave,” Dean smirks as Gabriel makes a gagging noise from the kitchen.   
The hour passes with Gabriel and Dean bickering back and forth. Their arguments never get too heated so Castiel ignores them for the most part; focusing on the game of Jenga they are all playing. Gabriel’s turn is next, very few easy pieces remain Gabriel holds his breath as he gingerly removes a piece from the side. The pieces wobble and threaten to fall, but he retrieves the piece with ease. The next turn is Dean’s and his hands are shaky has he tries to remove a sidepiece, opposite of where Gabriel took his. He cannot get the piece out straight and the pieces tumble down over his fingers. Dean groans and burrows his head in the crook of Castiel’s neck.  
“I can’t believe I lost to two grown men in Dresses.”  
Castiel chuckles and knows his shoulder against Dean’s cheek, making him sit up. Castiel ruffles his hair, which makes Dean groan again and straighten his hair down again. The sun has set and children are making their descent across the yards, some stop at their house ringing the bell in hopes of candy. Gabriel pulls a bag from the kitchen and fills a bowl with it to hand out to children while Dean and Cas make their trip, promising to collect some for Gabriel until he can join them.   
Castiel feels uncomfortable being an adult amongst children seeking candy; the adults do not seem the mind though. They toss extra candy into their bags and a few woman spare winks in their direction. Castiel only knows a few of his neighbors, the ones he has met because of Dean and the few that work with him. Otherwise, he is in a sea of strangers with Dean as his life raft, weaving his way through children. Castiel grips onto his elbow to make sure they stay together in the crowd of children and parents dressed as various monsters.   
What makes Castiel more uncomfortable is the thought that he and Dean may never have children. They can adopt, yes, but that will not be until their marriage is recognized. If they adopt before then, something could happen to one of them and if they both cannot get custody, the child can be sent into the system again. He bites his lip and watches a small girl in a princess costume get candy. Does Dean even want kids? He has never mentioned it. Castiel has always thought of having a son or daughter to take care of, shower in love and affection and raise. Dean notices the way his eyebrows knit together and stops their walk in the middle of the road. He rubs Castiel’s arm and holds him tight against him.  
“Should we head back home?”  
“No, I mean it’s not that,” Castiel pulls away and grips Dean’s hand in his own.  
Gabriel joins them when he runs out of candy to hand out. He grabs at Castiel’s bag of candy and begins to eat a mini chocolate bar. Dean smoothes his thumb over Castiel’s hand and squeezes, as if to say he is there when Castiel wants to talk. Castiel nods and lets his bag fall from his hands into Gabriel’s.   
\--  
The garden is dead from the cold, but Dean still manages to buy Castiel gifts. He buys books to fill the empty spaces on Castiel’s shelf. The first is a book on apiology, the study of bees. A small rough looking green book Castiel is sure came from a local thrift shop. Castiel tucks the book on his shelf and promises to read it later. He has never had a real interest in bees before, but with his gardening and bees pollinating he might give it a read. Dean says he can find something to suit him better if he were to have a list but Castiel likes the surprises so he never writes one.   
Without the garden to focus on, Castiel and Dean find other ways to fill their time. The snow has yet to fall, with the manageable chill they jog in the mornings. Dean is muscular, healthy, but he is not a runner like Castiel. He can keep Castiel’s pace, but they take more breaks than Castiel usually does. With time, Dean’s endurance builds and they can make Castiel’s entire jog without breaks. Castiel rewards his efforts with a pumpkin pie the next day.   
Dean mentions Thanksgiving, wants to know what Castiel does for the holiday. Castiel used to spend it with his family, when he was close by. Now Luc and Michael are states away with jobs and families of their own. Gabriel could make the trip if he wanted, but his holiday break is short and with having taken time off already, he is unsure he can stay long. Sam and Jess cannot come back until winter break. Their Thanksgiving break is too short for the price of a plane ticket, but they promise to visit during winter.   
Bobby, Dean’s boss, usually invites Dean over on holidays. Ellen will cook turkey, while Bobby makes mashed potatoes and orders Dean to help cook. They are family friends, Dean tells him. Bobby knew his father and mother before they passed away. When Dean began selling himself to the film industry, Bobby could not sit back and watch, he made Dean and Sam move in with him until they could afford a place of their own. Dean says Bobby would let them live with him their entire lives, he cares that much. Castiel’s chest warms with the affection.  
When Dean invites Castiel to join them, Castiel wants to decline. He thinks Dean should celebrate with his family, feels as though he would only impose on them. Dean denies he will with a kiss on his fingertips. He tells Castiel he is as much family as everyone else. Heat swims through Castiel’s bones when he thinks of being Dean’s family, the real kind of family with vows and rings. Dean pushes the hair from Castiel’s forehead and presses a chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips. Castiel agrees to join him on Thanksgiving.  
While they wait for the days to pass, Castiel pulls out the array of recipes Jess has left him. He wants to prepare a dish to bring to the dinner to share with Dean’s family. Jess is a much better cook than Castiel but he hopes that he can come somewhat close to her skill. With practice, many things are possible. Most of the dishes on the list do not seem suitable for the holiday, more dishes for a summer lunch or small dinner. He rubs at his forehead and continues to scan through the list for something, anything. The first recipe he finds to fit the occasion is for pumpkin cupcakes, something he is familiar with making in his mother’s kitchen. He mostly watched, but at times, she would read the instructions allowed while she made them.  
Castiel copies down the ingredients he needs on a separate sticky note and prepares to go to the grocery store. Dean will be walking through the door in soon and Castiel will drag him along and make Dean carry the bags inside the house. He smiles and smoothes the edge of the note along the wooden table.  
When Dean walks in, he has another book in his hand. He wraps his arms around Castiel’s neck, pressing their lips together, and slides the book into Castiel’s palm. The book is on the different types of flowers, including articles on how to plant and grow them. Castiel moves to slide the book onto the shelf when two seed packets slip from behind the cover and onto the floor. He picks them up and reads the label, delphinium accompanied by brunnera. He smiles and places the packets by the windowsill in the kitchen; he will plant them in the summer.  
Dean reads over the sticky note on the table and throws a questioning eye at Castiel. Dean enjoys Castiel’s cooking; he even enjoys rolling up his sleeves to help. What Dean despises most is tracking down ingredients and having to learn new tricks for separate recipes. Sometimes Castiel will catch him yelling at the spaghetti when he forgets to pick up meatballs, he will throw in whatever meat is in the fridge instead.   
“Grocery shopping again?” He whines.  
“Yes, grocery shopping again. That is where food comes from,” Castiel teases, pulling the list from Dean’s hand.  
“What are you making cupcakes for anyways?”   
“Thanksgiving, I want to be able to bring something.”  
“That’s not for a few weeks though, why are you making them now?”  
“I want to make sure I know how. Everything including the frosting are from scratch and I would much rather figure it out now, instead of ruin them later.”  
“You’re not gonna ruin them, Cas,” Dean presses against him and pulls the list away, slipping it into his pocket. “I’ll get the ingredients, you read or something. Learn about the bees.”   
\--  
Castiel prepares a few batches of cupcakes. He wants them perfect, wants to show Dean’s family that he is capable of something more than sitting in an office chair and crunching numbers. He devotes himself to measuring out the perfect amounts of nutmeg and ground ginger. He follows the directions precisely, using separate bowls for the powders and liquids, a concept he never fully understood but follows the directions anyways. While the cupcakes cook, he works on making the icing, a simpler task than he initially assumed. Castiel watches the batter rise and cook in their separate places, and removes them from the oven just as the timer goes off. He waits for the cupcakes to cool and tops them with icing and pecans, the way the directions ask.   
Castiel is no chef, nor does he want to be, but he wants this to right, wants Dean’s family to be happy about him visiting. He cannot cook perfect burgers like Ellen, and he has no idea how to even begin cooking a turkey, but his cupcakes will be perfect. He anxiously waits for Dean to finish his shower and rush down the step, following the scent of pumpkin filling the kitchen, the living room, and the rest of the small rooms in Castiel’s house. Castiel takes his seat at the table and drinks his coffee. The sound of water stopping and bottles dropping lets Castiel know that Dean will be down soon. He eyes the cupcakes and wills them to taste good. This is his second time around making them, Dean enjoyed them the first time, but Castiel wants him to love them this time.   
Dean comes down the steps in what Castiel quickly recognizes as his sweater, a brown, knit, scraggly looking piece of fabric. The sleeves are short on Dean’s arms, stopping just before his wrist. The length is perfect though, it even hangs a little on his waist. Castiel chuckles and points at the cupcakes for Dean to try. Dean scoots across the floor in his socks, an act that reminds Castiel of a child, and plucks a cupcake from the plate set aside for him on the counter. Dean bites into it, spilling crumbs on the floor, and moans around the pastry.   
“These are perfect,” Dean scoots across the floor and leaves an icing covered kiss on Castiel’s lips. “You’re perfect.”  
Castiel’s eyes dart around the kitchen and Dean lifts his chin with a finger.   
“They’re gonna love you Cas, relax,” he kisses him again, deeply this time. Castiel can taste pumpkin on his tongue as is rolls around Dean’s.   
“Now c’mon, we gotta be there.” Castiel grumbles and wraps the trays in plastic wrap, and carries them carefully to the car.  
During the car ride, Castiel fidgets with his shirt and worries what the others will think of him. The nerves swim under skin and make him itch with anticipation. It is hard to keep his breathing steady and his palms are starting to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans and returns his grip on the cupcakes, the last thing he needs is to ruin them by letting them slip to the floor. Castiel takes a deep breath, rests his head against the seat, and tries to focus on Dean’s humming. They arrive at Bobby’s sooner than Castiel anticipated and he rips from his tranquil when the Impala comes to a sharp stop.   
Bobby’s house is surrounded my junk cars, projects he collected when he first became a mechanic, Dean tells him. Some too damaged to continue, some worthy enough of tearing off doors or bumpers if need be. Without Bobby, Dean never would have had the parts or tools to fix the Impala up, not completely. His home is nice on the inside, lined from floor to ceiling in books, something Castiel did not expect. His kitchen is small compared to the amount of people standing around it. Castiel is sure there will not be enough seats at the table and the nerves swim through him again.  
Dean takes the cupcakes from his hands and sets them on a table designated for food. Ellen gives Dean a hug and Castiel one as well. She shuffles Castiel into the living room and tells him to wait until the turkey is finished cooking. Bobby pulls a few dishes from the oven and sets them on the table beside the cupcakes. Dean pulls drinks from the fridge, a soda for Castiel and a beer for himself. After that, Bobby pushes him out of the kitchen and tells him not to come back until the food is finished.  
A blonde girl dances around the kitchen, grabbing plates and setting them at the table along with silverware. She washes cooking utensils, only to have them grabbed out of her hand, used, and dirtied again. Jo, Dean tell him, is Ellen’s daughter and his childhood friend. Castiel recognizes Ash, the man with the mullet from the first time he went to Ellen’s diner. He is lying on the couch with a beer in his hand flipping through the TV channels. When he gets to Dr. Sexy Dean grabs the remote from his hand so he cannot change it. The sense of family drowns Castiel; he grips Dean’s hand tight in his own and watches the show intently.  
While a nurse is slapping another doctor, Bobby comes into the living room and plops onto the couch beside Dean. He looks like he is going to say something but something on the show catches his eye and he focuses on the TV. He makes comments under his breath about the head surgeon and his girlfriend’s relationship that Castiel can barely hear over the sound of the TV. He focuses on the show again, only to distracted when the sound of laughter erupts from the kitchen. He turns his head around when Ellen rushes to the living room with a camera and snaps a picture. Only then does Castiel realize that they have found the concept of four very grown men watching Dr. Sexy amusing.   
Bobby finally comes to his senses and shoots a glare in Ellen’s direction. He nudges Dean’s shoulder and informs him that the turkey is finished. Dean nods and squeezes Castiel’s fingers, gaining his attention. They stand, hand in hand, and walk to their places at the table. Castiel can feel Ellen’s gaze on them the whole way, making his face warm. The table is short, but if Castiel stretches his legs too far they knock against Ash’s, who does not spare Castiel the same luxury of keeping his feet to himself.   
They pass the dishes around, taking healthy amounts of each portion. When Castiel tries to be courteous and only take small portions, Dean scoops extra onto his plate and grins at him, passing the dishes again. Castiel’s stomach feels like it will detach from the rest of his limbs when he finishes eating and he groans at the mention of dessert. The others seem to have bottomless stomachs though, taking one of each sweet. There is pumpkin pie, chocolate pie, Castiel’s cupcakes, jello, and other baked goods. Dean returns to the table with two of Castiel’s cupcakes and a slice of each pie. Castiel groans at the mere sight of watching Dean eat ever more food.   
Jo jokes about Dean always being a big eater, says he would die if someone forced him to eat healthy for once. Dean just nods and shoves another bite of cake into his mouth. Jo steals one of his cupcakes and before Dean can snatch it back, she has the whole cake in her mouth. Castiel is reminded of the way his own family bickers on the holidays, always half-heartedly. He is surprised by how at home he feels in Bobby’s house, aside from the lack of prayers and playboy calendar he almost feels like he is home. Dean shoves the last of his cupcake into his mouth and collects the plates to wash them and Castiel dries them when he is finished.   
When Dean and Castiel have finished, they snuggle on the couch together. Castiel rests his head on Dean’s chest, arm around his waist. Dean rests his hand on Castiel’s should, the other on his hip. He rubs lazy circles on his hip and they watch Dr. Sexy until Castiel falls asleep. Dean’s hand trails lazily through his hair, winding longer pieces around his finger. Sometime during the night, Dean scoops him into the Impala, Castiel only being partially conscious can hear Jo giggle behind them and Bobby and Ellen talking in hushed voices.   
Castiel does not fully wake up until Dean parks in his own driveway and attempts to lift Castiel out of the car. The angle is strange so Dean runs his hand through his hair and whispers his name until he is awake. Dean is smiling down at him, looking ethereal, and Castiel can do nothing but smile, grip his shoulders, and force himself out of the car.   
Castiel rarely sleeps in Dean’s bed, he wishes he would more often when he leans into the memory foam and sinks in right away. He is still dressed so Dean tries to get him to sit up so he can take off his shirt and pants. Castiel groans and rolls onto his side when he is undressed and groans again, when the cold air brushes against his skin. Dean slides in next to him, wrapping an arm around him, pulling his back against his chest. Castiel melts into the warmth behind him and begins to drift asleep again.   
Dean begins muttering words in Castiel’s ear and he wonders if he should be paying attention to the conversation. Nothing Dean is saying sounds too pressing though, a bunch of I loves yous wrapped in words of praise that has Castiel smiling in his stupor. He grips Dean’s hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a sloppy kiss to each knuckle. Dean chuckles behind him and says something about Castiel having no idea what he is saying. Castiel just keeps pressing kisses, trailing down his palms to his wrist until Dean slides his arm free and holds him tight again. Castiel can hear Dean’s love you clearly, as he presses his lips against his ear and whispers into the night. He slides a leg behind him until it tangles with Dean’s own and falls asleep.   
The morning consists of lazy kisses, both of them too comfortable to move from beneath the warmth of the sheets. Dean kisses all the skin he can reach, the back of Castiel’s neck, his hair, his shoulder, shoulder blades, the dip in his back, and down to the edge of his boxes. Castiel hums his approval and squeezes a pillow in his arms like a stuffed animal. Dean smoothes a palm down his thigh and climbs back up the bed to rest beside him. He pulls at Castiel’s shoulder until their face to face. Castiel can feel his breath ghosting over his eyelids and opens them to Dean’s.   
“I want to talk to you about something,” he says as Castiel’s ear drums implode. He knows little about relationships but knows enough to know those words are never accompanied by something good. He thinks of where he went wrong. Was he too affectionate? Not enough? Maybe Dean wants someone more mature with more experience. Castiel’s jaw hangs loosely and the words are trapped in his throat. Pleas of no, and we can work this out, all that comes out is the crack of sound. Dean presses a finger of his lip and shushes him.  
“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” Castiel lets out a sigh of relief and waits for Dean to continue.  
“We, uh, we’re in love right?” Castiel nods and furrows his brows. “And uh, people when they love each other, they-let me start over.” He coughs, clears his throat, and pulls at a loose thread attached the sheet wrapped around them both. “We’re happy, and together, and probably gonna be together a while. I’m practically at your house all the time anyways, but you don’t have spare bed rooms or a nice mattress, but you do have that good oven.” Dean is rambling now and Castiel still has no idea what he is trying to say.  
“Dean, stop. What are you getting at?”  
“What I’m trying to say is we should move in together.” He sighs heavily and carries a hand through his hair.  
“I agree.”   
Castiel had thought of bringing it up before, but he could never work out the details. Who would move, who would stay. What will they do with the extra furniture; they can sell it or rent a storage space in case it fails. Castiel loves his small house, yes, but if they have guests, there will be no space for them to sleep. Dean has a spare room, a bigger bathroom, even a guest bathroom. Dean’s kitchen is not as nice, but Castiel wonders if they can swap the equipment. Dean even has a larger backyard, equipped with a patio and gardening space. His front lawn can use some sprucing up, Castiel thinks. Castiel still has a lease on his home for another couple of months, but when that is up they can make decisions that are more definite.   
“We will have to wait until summer, but I’m okay moving here, if that is what you want.”  
“Yeah, yes, that’s perfect,” Dean kisses him repetitively in a small head bobbing motion making Castiel chuckle. He gets a hold of Dean’s jaw and presses a final kiss to his lips before rolling out of the bed.   
Dean gets a hold of Castiel’s waist and manhandles him until Castiel’s back is flat on the bed and Dean is hovering over him.   
“I don’t think so,” Dean mumbles into his neck, sucking and biting at his skin.  
“Dean I have to pee.”  
“It can wait.” Dean emphasizes his need by rutting against Castiel. Castiel sucks in a sharp breath but manages to compose himself enough and shrug Dean off.   
Cas slides off the mattress and pads across the halls to the bathroom. He washes his face in the sink when he is finished and turns the dials on the bathtub to start the shower. He walks back to Dean’s room to grab a pair of pants and a shirt to change into. Dean’s clothes always hang loose on him, the way Castiel likes it. If he wears Dean’s sweater he can pretend that Dean is wrapping his arms around him when he is in his home alone at night. Soon, though, he can wrap himself and Dean’s arms and never leave, except to eat and go to work of course.   
Before Cas can shuffle back to the bathroom, Dean catches his wrist and pulls him into his chest. He rests his head on Castiel’s shoulder and breathes in.  
“I love you, you know.”  
“I love you, too.” Castiel does not think he has ever spoken truer words.


	8. Letters

Winter sets in with a ferocity that Castiel should have expected. Everything feels colder than it should, the tile floors, the couch cushions and his office chair. Castiel wants nothing more than to spend his time with Dean, but colder weather means sales and Castiel has to be in the office longer to answer phone calls, emails, and fill out paper work. Dean spends more hours at the shop, says he wants to be able to buy presents this year. Icy roads mean more accidents and people worrying over if their breaks truly work or not. Castiel hates the winter.  
His office seems larger than normal, and darker, drowning in sepia tones and blandness that makes Castiel want to rip his hair out. The once white walls are stained with years of agony from managers before him, dripping in desolation. There are cracks in the leather seat, exposing bits of cushion, fighting to break through their barrier, working to break out of the office just as Castiel is. He types away at a keyboard which must be from the nineties with the way the keys stick and click, screaming out their frustrations with every press of the space bar. The computer hums and moans, begging for an early death but the office has cutbacks, the budget much too low to waste on new electronics.   
Castiel sits back with a creak of the chair and rubs rough palms over his face, rubbing at his eyes until the colors begin to swirl. He wonders if he rubs hard enough if he will appear in another universe where bosses did not make their employees work overtime during the holiday seasons, or another where Dean was always close. Maybe then frost would not collect in his bones and freeze him from the inside out. Castiel pushes a file into its place in a filing cabinet only to pull three more out and begin organizing the papers within by date. A stack of papers rests beside his monitor, stacked in order of importance. Castiel does not think any paper is more important than going home early and making dinner for the sore muscled man he has come to love.  
The hum of the heating vent makes Castiel want to rip his desk into firewood and burn it in Zachariah’s office, which is empty by the way, Castiel checked two hours ago. The hum comes in and out, the heat shut off every few hours to conserve money. If the company is having such difficulty with profits, they should not have stupid sales anyways. Castiel checks his watch, twenty minutes past ten. He should have been home hours ago; he should be sleeping right now. Instead, he is stuck in this office doing work that no one else seems to be. The whole building is dead aside from a few of the cleaning staff.   
Castiel punches the power button on his computer with his index finger and waits for the fan to stop. He hopes he has ruined the computer and haphazardly throws his bag together to leave. The strap cuts into the skin of his neck, but he could not care. Wind cuts like ice against his cheeks and hands and Castiel realizes he left his trench coat on the back of his chair, along with his suit jacket; he digs his hands into his pockets as refuge from the chill. He bites his lip, tasting fresh blood from where it cracks in the center. He can see his own breath filter out of his nose and quickly unlocks his car door with shaky fingers. Inside the car is chilly as well, nowhere is safe he thinks. He laughs to himself, but there is nothing humorous about his situation.   
The flowers that line Castiel’s path that leads to his steps are all dead, dried up and wilting against the cement. Petals long gone, leaves frosted to the grass in a feeble attempt to placate itself. Everything outside is an eerie shade of grey that makes something uneasy settle in Castiel’s stomach. Castiel wastes no time unlocking his door and shuts it behind him quickly. Heat rushes against his skin and Castiel welcomes the embrace, melting into the cushions on the couch as if he has never felt warmth before. Castiel knows Dean was here, he can smell his aftershave on pillow, mixed with Castiel’s conditioner. He peeks an eye around the room and finds the bit of yellow paper attached to his coffee table.   
Cas, fixed the heat, can’t have you freezing to death. I wanted to stay but Bobby invited me for drinks, you weren’t home either way I guess… Can’t wait to see you in the morning, should be up early enough to make you breakfast but then I have to head into the shop. A wreck on main, lots of damage, I haven’t seen that much blood since- anyway, have a good night. Get some real sleep, skip work if you have to.  
I love you,  
Dean.

Castiel rubs over the ink, smudging Dean’s farewell. He gathers the note, along with the others Dean has left him, and carries them into his room. They crinkle against the others Castiel has hiding in his nightstand drawer, along with a few pens and pads of paper. Castiel toes off his shoes, relishing in the feeling when his toes are free. He braces himself before sliding off his pants and dress shirt, cold air rushing to cling to his skin and work into his blood stream. He shivers and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and one of Dean’s sweaters he left on the floor, the collar stretches unevenly over is chest, exposing too much skin. He burrows beneath the sheets, drawing them over his head and wishes Dean were home with him instead of out drinking.   
Guilt is like a nectar, sliding down Castiel’s throat, making it difficult to swallow but he cannot stop wanting, wishing. He wants nothing more than to pull Dean out of his life, drive down to the bar, but Dean is still his own person, Dean has a life and family outside of Castiel. Castiel squeezes Dean’s pillow to his chest and thinks it will keep Dean from ever, truly leaving. Castiel can hope. Castiel knows he is being selfish, can tell by the way his mother’s scalding tone reverberates in his head, whispering bible verses and singing hymns and he just wants it to stop so he can sleep. Castiel crawls deeper beneath the sheets, pulls Dean’s pillow tighter to his chest and waits and waits and waits for sleep to come.  
When Castiel wakes up, there is no Dean, so smell of breakfast, just the tone of his alarm screaming somewhere in the distance. The blankets lay heavy against him like a dead weight, nearly suffocating him. He slides against the sheets until he breaks the surface, only to be blinded by the lamp on his nightstand, his lamp that was off last night before he went to sleep. He throws the covers from himself and quickly regrets it when the cold settles in. But Dean is here, and Dean means warmth. Castiel pushes his feet into action until he is standing in the middle of his barren kitchen with no Dean, no breakfast and no warmth.  
Castiel turns on the coffee pot, makes enough for one cup and returns to his bedroom to collect a fresh work shirt and pants, to change into after his shower. A paper rustles to the floor, catching his attention.   
Cas, couldn’t make breakfast today, sorry. Maybe tomorrow? I’ll try to come over after work if you’re not working late again. I really wanted to see you, well I did, but you were sleeping-are sleeping. You’re kind of cute you know, you talk in your sleep too. Something about files and computers, don’t work yourself too hard, okay. I cannot wait till this holiday shit is over and I can really see you again. I woke up late today though, but thought you should know why I didn’t show up, well didn’t stay I guess. Anyways, have a good morning, afternoon, and hopefully night if I can see you.   
Love you,  
Dean.

Castiel slips the letter in his drawer.  
\--  
Castiel’s office is the same sepia toned bane of existence, except now the screeching from his computer is nearly deafening, forcing Castiel to hold is palms to his ears. The monitor reads an error, computer shut down error, and it cannot read the hard drive. Castiel shuts the computer down and is relieved when the screeching stops. He signs and rests his head on the stack of papers on his desk. Without the files on his hard drive he will have to start over, retype all the work he did yesterday, this time making sure to print and upload it to the company’s files.   
The maintenance man will come, inspect the old computer, and diagnose it, un-plug it, plug it back in and then decide it needs replaced. The company will want to be sure before wasting the money on new equipment, even though Castiel is sure they just bring up old computers from company’s past and declare them brand new. Ones that have been sitting in a storage closet collecting dust with decaying systems. Castiel traces a pattern in the dust of his monitor, unwilling to move to make the call. The longer he stalls though, the longer he will have to stay in his office, risking missing Dean again.  
Castiel exhales, pushes himself from his chair, and walks the ten steps to the secretary to inform her of his situation. She calls down to maintenance, who declares it will be an hour-long wait due to a printer mishap on the second floor. Castiel thanks the young woman and returns to his worn leather chair that chills to the touch. He tries to arrange the files into suitable piles on his desk but settles on tossing them at the wall, creating a firework display of paper and manila folders, floating gingerly to the floor. Now Castiel can re-file documents while he waits for the maintenance man to arrive.   
-  
The office maintains its dull existence while Castiel types away at his new, yet used, keyboard. While the maintenance man was inspecting the computer, he noticed the state of Castiel’s keyboard, coffee stained and extending its arms to appliance heaven. Castiel was thankful for the gesture, but still annoyed with the extended wait while the man checked the inside components of his computer, only to declare it needed a new hard drive. He tells Castiel it will be easier just to give him a new computer, with company cut backs they most likely were not going to invest in a new part.   
With the new computer, Castiel can work fast, not having to let the fan rest and cool down as often. The internet moves at a faster pace and the mouse does not get stuck when he rolls too far off the screen, only to bounce back twenty minutes later. The keys on the new keyboard move smoother, only one letter sticks on this one and Castiel can feel his productiveness increasing. Still, the clock moves faster than he wishes and when he checks it again he has already worked overtime, but has only made a dent in his work. He scrubs a hand over his face and stares at the documents in front of him. Castiel still needs to make a few e-mails and confirm transactions with customers but this late; he would be more likely to lose customers calling them at this time.   
Castiel hates feeling so far behind on his work, sure Zachariah understands system malfunctions but that does not make up for the time he is putting in, wasting on numbers and files and typing words he could care less about. The job is relatively easy, yes, but not worth the time, not worth the chill that shivers through his spine every time he sits in that damned seat. Castiel shuts his computer down, the proper way this time, and prays that Dean will be waiting when he gets home. Even if he is asleep, Castiel will get to see him and lay next to him and that will be enough.  
Castiel remembers his suit jacket this time, but forgets his trench coat again. The cold burns when he breaths in, scratching at his lungs. He coughs and pushes through, the drive home seeming longer than he remembers. His eyelids are heavy and anchors weight his limbs as he makes the walk to his front door. The key misses the lock and slides to the ground, making Castiel grumble and stand in the cold longer than he pleases. Eventually, the door opens with a creek, the smell of hamburgers nearly knocking him off his feet.   
Castiel throws his suit coat to the side, shucking his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his dress shirt. He manages the get his shoes off at the door and his socks slide across the floors with ease; he nearly floats to the kitchen. The lights are off, on the oven rests a plate of hamburgers covered in plastic wrap to maintain their freshness. Castiel picks at the edge of one of the buns and crumbles it over the stovetop, not caring about the mess. The meat is still warm, but his stomach groans in protest so he sets them in the fridge for another time. Stuck to the freezer door is another note.  
Cas, got a call from an old friend during work. I’m not sure the next time I’ll see him again, so we went out tonight. He is a good guy, from the south, I think you would like him. He’s in a bit of trouble right now, nothing too serious, something about finding out he has a daughter. I think he just needs someone to be with right and I can’t just leave him hanging, you know? Tomorrow we’re going to try and find where she’s staying, he got an address from his old girlfriend, the girl’s mom. He needs me right now; sorry I can’t be there right now. Enjoy your dinner, you need to eat more. Your fridge is running low on supplies; I’ll pick some up for you on my lunch break tomorrow. Good night, Cas.  
Love you,  
Dean  
Castiel leaves the note on the fridge, and begins to shuck out of his clothes at the stairs. They are heavy in his hands so he lets them drop on the stairs and grips the railing for support when he nearly trips over his pants. Castiel leaves them where they lie, and curls under the heat of the blankets. He shivers and grips the pillow; he hates himself when he cries into it, silent tears leaving trails down his cheeks. A burning sense of emptiness weaves its way through his framework, corrupting his system and Castiel cannot think of how to function. Therefore, he lays and he cries and nothing feels okay, but Dean is his own person and Castiel cannot control him.   
\--  
Castiel pulls out the notepad when he wakes up, he has so many unsaid words for Dean and the least he can do is write them out. His mind blanks when he presses the pen to the paper and he tries to think of just what he should say. The obvious is there, Cas misses Dean, Cas misses his hands, and his lips and his freckles, especially his freckles. He misses the way Dean’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, the rough, softness to his voice when he whispers. He misses the way their bodies mold together at night, how for eight hours out of the day, they are one. Castiel just misses Dean. He sets the notepad aside and decides to shower; maybe he will think of the words then. They never come.  
Castiel does not think of words when he showers or when he dresses. He only feels the burn of water rushing over his skin, patting against him in an array of nudges to wake him up. The words are lost down the drain when he makes coffee and are swept up by the wind when he leaves for work. Castiel’s pockets are hardly refuge today, the temperature has dropped another few degrees and he is eager for it to pick up again. His notepad lays, unused, on his bed, maybe when he comes home there will be a new note, something to hold onto when Dean is away.   
Dean’s car is gone. Castiel wonders if Dean even came home last night, perhaps he stayed at this unnamed friend’s house. How long has Dean known this friend? Castiel thinks through the list of friends Dean has mentioned but none have kids, well one, but she has custody of her son. Doubts and jealousy make for a terrible concoction, poisoning Castiel’s thoughts. He has spent too much time away from Dean because he knows Dean would not cheat on him, or lie to him.   
Work is difficult, work is always difficult, but today proves more challenging. The coffee pot in the break room is broken, with Castiel’s exhaustion catching up with him he worries about falling asleep at his desk again. To make matters worse, hunger has been clawing at Castiel since he woke up. His fridge is low; all that remains is an apple or two, an egg, and half a gallon of milk. He has been eating lunch at work, sometimes grabs a bagel from the break room for breakfast and retreats home too exhausted to even think of cooking and eating dinner. Castiel still has the burgers at home and thinks of heating them up for dinner tonight.  
Castiel rushes work, frenzied to get something done so he can return home on time. To no avail, the clock still reads past ten when he finally puts on his suit coat and trench coat. When he pulls into his driveway tonight, the light in his living room is on, visible through the window. The air cuts like glass and makes him wince. His door is unlocked when he turns the knob and the kitchen smells like food again.   
Castiel finds his refrigerator restocked, mostly with foods Dean eats. The stove is still warm with a dish of lasagna; Castiel hardly knew Dean knew how to make lasagna. He scoops a pile onto his plate and takes a bite, and then another. Soon the plate is gone and he is gathering up a second serving. He lets it rest at the table while he puts the leftovers in the fridge, carving out a space between the other foods. He leaves his tie hanging over a chair, along with his coats. Castiel finds a pad of sticky notes and writes a simple thank you, then sticks it to the fridge.   
Castiel eats his lasagna between pulling pans from a cabinet and fishing out ingredients. He does not have the right materials for what he wants to make and settles on cake. Sleep is a vixen calling him to bed but the powders and liquids are already mixed together. Castiel lays the batter in a pan and sits it in the oven to cook. He finishes his lasagna while he waits, and he waits. The timer breaks him out of a daydream and he is quick to pull it out of the oven. The sooner the cake can cool, the sooner he can ice it and go to sleep.   
Castiel’s body has other plans; he falls asleep at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hands. The warm liquid becomes chilling to the touch by the time morning settles in. The weight of something new pressing against him makes him stir and knock the cup over, cool liquid streaming over his arms, across his cheek. His hair matted in it and the rest trails over his lap, staining his favorite dress pants. Castiel pushes himself from the table; he does not have the energy to be angry or concerned for his clothes, only wishes for the sticky feeling to go away. He pushes the blanket from his shoulders and begins his waddle up the steps.  
While Castiel is pulling his shirt off, it comes to his attention that he never had a blanket last night, having never planning to sleep in the kitchen. He races out of the bathroom, sopping pants hanging low on his hips, and checks his bedroom first, empty. He marches down the steps and groans when the living room and kitchen are just as empty. Castiel hikes up his pants and walks back up the steps to shower, pouting the whole way. He feels like a child lately, hoping and waiting and then throwing fits when he is disappointed. Castiel can hear his brother’s voice in his ears, scolding him, telling him to be patient. Castiel hates being patient. He turns the shower on, not waiting for the water to heat up before stepping under the spray. His breathing comes in rushed huffs as ice cold water falls over him.   
Castiel rolls his eyes when the clock on his nightstand informs him he is late for work, good he thinks. He throws on a sweater, thankful for casual Fridays when he can wear warmer clothing. Castiel wrestles for a pair of jeans amongst the ones sprawled across his floor. He sits on his bed to pull on his socks and sits on something hard that digs into his hip. He pulls the notepad from under himself and reads the note Dean left him today.  
Cas, you really need to clean your room. It’s weird seeing Mr. Neat Freaks panties on the floor like this. You didn’t eat your dinner last night either, when we get together I’m taking you out and we’re getting you the biggest burger Ellen can grill. Bobby let me out early today so I’ll cook you something. He says I’m working myself too hard, I don’t agree but that didn’t stop him from changing my shift with someone else. Sorry if I’m asleep when you come home, long day.   
Love you,  
Dean

Towards the bottom of the page is another note.  
You didn’t come to bed last night, I miss laying next to you. I think your sheets need changed, they smell, well, not fresh I guess. Sorry, it’s been a while. You ate last night, so that’s good. The cake looks good too, I covered it for you so you can finish it without it getting hard. I tried to wake you, but you just kind of groaned and pulled away. Don’t fall asleep at the table like that, it’s not good for your back, you know. I’m getting off early again tonight, Bobby’s orders. Maybe that douche Zachariah will let you let early, it is the weekend. I just, I really miss you Cas. Can’t wait to see you again.  
Love you, miss you,  
Dean  
P.S. probably shouldn’t sit on the sheets. Sorry again.

Castiel tosses the note pad to the side and lunges from the bed. He is certain there is nothing on his jeans, but changes them just in case. He will have to throw them in the wash and change them before he goes to bed. Another task Castiel can add to his growing list. Castiel rips the sheets from the bed and tosses them on the floor with his dirty laundry. Something like anger bubbles inside of him when he begins ripping the covers off his pillows. Castiel tosses the pillows onto his bed and marches down the steps, pulling his trench coat from the back of the chair. He throws it around himself and walks out the door, slamming it, rattling the frame. A piece of the siding slides from its place and hits the ground with a thud.  
Castiel slams the door to his car and starts the engine but cannot bring himself to put the care in reverse and drive. Instead, he lays his head on the steering wheel and stares at his upturned palms. Dean was there, he was in his house, in his bed. Dean missed him, left work early, Dean was there. The thoughts circle Castiel like hungry sharks, snapping and tearing at him. Dean came home last night and Castiel slept in the kitchen.  
“Fuck.”  
The word seems to slip from Castiel’s lips before he can grasp it and shove it back down his throat. He does not care, he cannot care. Dean was in his bed, waiting for him, and he missed the chance to curl in those warm arms and get a good night’s sleep.  
\--  
No one notices Castiel is late for work except his secretary. She asks him if he is all right, but he does not hear. He walks right passed and goes straight to his office. He left his bag at home, or in the car, he cannot remember. The stack of files on his desk is at a manageable level so Castiel devotes himself to sorting, typing and reviewing. The squeak the space bar makes becomes a steady rhythm until a knock on Castiel’s office door shakes him from his reverie. Zachariah is outside his door and Castiel groans at the thought of even more paper work.   
Zachariah lets himself in; Castiel keeps his eyes on his work to show Zach that he is busy and come back later. He takes the seat across from Castiel anyways and makes himself comfortable. Zachariah rifles through the stack of file folders, and Castiel holds back a glare when he returns them in a different order. He pulls Castiel’s file cabinet open and runs a finger across them, they move forward and snap back into their places. He shuts the file cabinet, stands and taps his blunt nails on the edge of the desk.  
“Christmas is coming.” Castiel nods.  
“Mean’s extra work for everyone, even us boys upstairs are swamped.” Another nod.  
“You though, you’re powering right on through.” Castiel sighs and rearranges the folders to their original order.  
“Which is why you’re getting a raise.” Castiel drops the folder in his hand and stares at it in disbelief.  
“Beginning of the month, bigger paycheck.” Zachariah shuts the door on his way out and a thank you is stuck somewhere in Castiel’s throat.  
\--  
The lights are on in Castiel’s living room again. He walks quickly to avoid the way the cold seeps into his pours and makes him shiver. The door is unlocked, again, and he nearly trips over a pair of boots at the door. Castiel toes off his own shoes, leaves his tie and coats on the couch. A yellow note floats off the table and to his feet, which Castiel moves to the side with a socked foot. He turns the lamp off and moves to the kitchen, where he can smell leftovers. Dean’s dirty dishes on lying in the sink, the cake has chocolate frosting on it and something drawn in vanilla icing. Castiel puts the lasagna back into the fridge and begins cleaning the dishes.  
His hands are soft from water when he is finished. He notices the coffee stain has been cleaned from the floor as well as the table. Castiel walks to the foot of the steps and sucks in a breath, he takes each step softly, like if he moves too quickly, the structure will crumble, sending him into the basement. The bathroom light illuminates the hallway but a quick peek tells Castiel that it is empty. He pushes the door to his bedroom open and is swallowed by the darkness. Castiel slides his feet across the floor and is surprised when he does not trip over clothes or sheets.   
Castiel pulls his clothes off, throwing them to a corner of the room. He climbs under the sheets and slides into the warmth until he can feel skin against his own. Dean shuffles and turns to his side, facing Castiel. His eyes are closed when he tries to speak, only to come up as half mumbles Castiel cannot translate. He slides closer, until their chests are touching, and runs an index finger across the bridge of Dean’s nose, tracing the pattern. Dean crinkles his nose and pulls away; bust Castiel captures him in his arms. Castiel burrows his face into Dean’s collarbone and Dean’s arms wrap around him.  
“You lost weight,” he says. Castiel nods against him.  
“I missed you so much,” a kiss to his hair. “Tomorrow I’m taking you out to eat…” Dean continues to ramble, soft whispers that make Castiel’s hair bristle and blow. Castiel’s own mouth begins to open and words spill out like fountain, his own voice takes him by surprise.   
“I miss you so much. When you’re gone, these stupid sheets are cold and I forget to cook-you’re like one of those stupid pop songs on the radio and no matter how much I hate the repetition I can’t turn it off. I broke the computer because I missed you, then they had to give me a new one. I came in late today, I thought they would fire me, but they didn’t Dean, they didn’t fire me. I got a raise, a fucking raise.” He stops to catch his breath. “I hate my job. I hate this house, I hate my car, I hate my boss, I hate the chair I sit in, even more than I hate the coffee pot in the break room, which don’t get me started on that. My secretary, she’s nice, she bring cookies on Wednesdays and redirects my calls. I hate the way the floor makes noise and tricks me into thinking you’re home, I hate the stove, it’s brand new, something I would never afford, and I hate it. I hate this bed, and these stupid sheets, Dean I hate all of it. And I hate, hate, winter.”  
Castiel waits for Dean to respond, when he hears the soft sigh of Dean’s steady breathing he presses against him, feeling like he has wrapped himself around a furnace. He traces the dots on Dean’s shoulder until he falls asleep.


	9. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long! Please accept some smut as a gesture of solidarity.

December comes without the snow. The air has a new scent of frozen lakes and a feeling of inexplicable joy. Children stay indoors while parents string lights on roofs and railing, they blow up balloon Santa’s to sit in their lawns. Some rooftops have reindeer making their way into chimneys. Through windows, trees are visible, covered in lights and tinsel with angels to top them. Castiel does not have a tree in his home this year; he hardly spends time at his own home through the holiday.   
He recalls when he was a child, his father would show his brothers how to string lights on the roof, Castiel was always too small to learn, his father feared he would staple his hand or fall off a ladder. When the decorations were put onto the house, they would sit in the living room and drink hot apple cider, singing carols. Castiel would mouth the words along with his family, but he never truly sang, not until he was much older. He dreaded when his family would dress up and sing carols to the neighbors and members of his church, his father would tell him they were spreading joy, but Castiel felt like a liar. He would put on a smile and sing the hymns quietly beside his siblings.   
Castiel’s home is abandoned, aside from a few dustings and clothing retrievals. Instead, Castiel makes a home in Dean’s house, cleaning when he is away, leaving the TV on in the background while he works. Sometimes Dean will sing to the radio while he reads. At night, Castiel will sink into the memory foam mattress and drift to sleep easily, no need to wake up early for work. Dean will stay in bed, late into the afternoon and the two will curl beneath the sheets. Dean makes breakfast, brings Castiel a cup of black coffee to coax him out of bed.  
Castiel stays at Dean’s house when Sam and Jess arrive. Their flight lands two weeks before Christmas, giving them time to settle in before they need to buy presents. They take over the spare bedroom after Dean lectures them on the importance of protection. Castiel feels like an intrusion on their family time, but Dean reminds him that he will be living in his house soon. Castiel nods, because he knows and he understands but he still feels like an invader.   
One night, while Castiel is cleaning the kitchen, Jess makes them hot chocolate. Castiel washes the dished used for their dinner. Dean and Sam are at the theater seeing a movie both Jess and Cas agreed was too violent for their tastes. She stirs the powder into the water and waits from them to cool a bit before adding whipped cream to the top. Castiel would not normally accept such a sugary drink, but the temperature dropped once the sunset and Castiel’s fingers welcome the warmth. He drinks down a few sips, warming in his stomach before Jess begins asking him questions he is unsure of how to answer. She sets her mug down and swirls a finger around the edge.  
“So, you and Dean are moving in together?”  
“Yes, sometime in the summer, when my lease is up.”  
“Oh, are you sure that’s what you want to do?”  
“After much thought, yes, this is what I want.”  
“I don’t want to seem rude, Cas, but you’ve hardly known Dean a year. Now, you’re moving in, you stopped going to church and threw out your bibles. Sam noticed when he went through your books this afternoon. I just, I don’t want you changing if that’s not what you want.” She slides a hand across the table and rests it on Castiel’s.  
Castiel knows Jess is concerned, she has the purest intentions, but he cannot help but feel reminded of his mother in this situation. She would wonder the same if she was to see him now, she would have stopped him before any of this would have happened. Castiel swirls the whipped topping into his hot chocolate, watching as it melts into the drink.   
“Dean and I have not been together long, I know, but this is what I want. My whole life, the decisions have been made for me, my brothers taught me how to act, my mother reprimanded me for not being the good boy she wanted me to be. But, I am an adult now, and I’m making the decisions now,” Castiel furrows his brows and stares into his drink.  
Jess nods and drinks her chocolate again. Castiel is thankful when she does not bring it up again. The question burns in the back of his mind like the credit at the end of a movie, always moving, always coming back to the top of his thoughts. He wants to shake it off, dig it out of his membrane. He wants to live with Dean, he does, and he wants to revel in the warmth of Dean’s body pressed against his in the morning. He wants to wake up to the smell of burning toast and fresh coffee being pressed into his grasp, with a kiss to follow. Castiel wants nothing more than to bulldoze his old possession, his past, and turn to a life where Dean is all he has ever known.   
\--  
The Saturday after Sam and Jess return to Deans, they go tree shopping. Dean tells Cas he has a plastic tree he uses for the holidays, a little thing that stands two to three feet tall and sits on his kitchen table nicely. Castiel is appalled at the thought and informs Dean that they are getting a real tree this year. With Castiel’s raise, he is also buying Dean new lights and tree decorations. When Dean complains about not having space to put the tree, Castiel cleans out a spot in Dean’s living room and makes sure to measure the space. He tells dean if they get a tree smaller than what he made room for, then the tree should fit along with the decorations. Dean grumbles, but when Sam and Jess get excited about the idea, he folds.  
The weather is unforgiving, but the snow has yet to fall, so Dean decides Saturday is the perfect day to get the tree. Bobby lets Dean borrow his truck and him, Cas, Sam, and Jess all cram into it. The space is tight, so Jess sits half on Sam and half on Cas so they can close the door properly. Sam and Jess offered to stay home, but Dean turned them down, said if he had to go, they had to go. Castiel enjoys the experience, even with the extra weight and inability to move his arms.  
Castiel is lost in the way the paths between the trees wind and turn, he nearly forgets the reason they came. He remembers his childhood, when his father would take him and his brothers to pick a tree, Castiel one year stumbled upon a larger one, taller than his living room. He begged and pleaded for the tree until his father reminded him that beggars never chose with a week’s grounding and a lash on his bottom; that was the last year Castiel offered his opinion on a tree. For the years that followed, he found excuses to stay home with his mother and help clean or cook. His brothers teased him, called him a mama’s boy, but Castiel stopped caring.   
Dean squeezes his hand and brings him back to the present. He points in the direction of a small tree, about the size that Dean’s house will allow. A few branches hang a little long but Dean says they can trim them before they bring it inside. Castiel and Jess stand to the side while Sam and Dean work on cutting the tree. A burst of air makes him and Jess huddle closer together while Sam and Dean wipe sweat from their brow. He wants to start moving to warm up his limbs and get the blood flowing, but instead stands closer to Jess and shivers with her. He pulls his fingers into his coat and waits for them to warm up.  
Sam and Dean carry the tree to the truck, strapping in to the bed. Castiel is excited to see it in the living room, but Dean needs to trim a few branches first, while Castiel cleans the area more thoroughly, sweeping and setting a skirt beneath the tree to catch any pine needles that fall. That way, when the tree needs taken down, Dean can shake the skirt outside. Dean wrinkles his nose at the gingerbread man and candy cane print pattern, but sets the tree in place anyways. When he finishes, the tree stands a foot shorter than the ceiling, to fit an angel at the top.   
Dean makes dinner while Castiel shops for ornaments to decorate the tree. He wanders the isles of the hardware store, searching for lights and bulbs to fit the tree. He keeps with a pattern of gold and red, a pattern his mother used during Christmas only because she thought the scheme was pretty. Castiel finds bows to twist onto the tree along with bulbs ranging in sizes, he finds the smaller ones cute and decides to add them to his basket.  
While Castiel is waiting in line to check out, he realizes Dean’s house has no other decorations, no lights on the house, or Santa figurines on the lawn, not even a stocking on his wall. Castiel wonders if he should turn back, find something to string on the porch, maybe just some streamers, or faux snow for the windows. Before he can turn around, he is standing in front of the cashier and deems it too late to turn back.   
When Castiel returns to Deans, the house smells of chicken, Dean must baking. Castiel leaves the decorations in the living room and checks on Dean in the kitchen. Sam and Jess are nursing mugs of hot chocolate while Dean stands in front of the oven, peering into the small window of the oven door. Castiel hangs his coat over the chair and takes a seat, watching Dean. Dean hums to himself and opens the oven, pulling the chicken out. He pokes one with a fork and turns an accusatory look at Jess.   
“You sure we can’t just fry it?”  
“Dean, trust me, this is gonna taste great.” Jess chimes in.  
“When did you guys get so health conscious anyways?”   
Dean pulls plates from a cabinet and begins laying a chicken breast on each. Next, he scoops a pile of green beans and carrots on three, leaving his own vegetable free. He pulls a baked potato from the oven and begins filling it with cheese and bacon, to which Sam scolds him for doing. He says Dean is going to put himself into an early grave if he does not try to eat healthier. Dean grumbles and scoops a small amount of carrots onto his plate, then sets the plates at the table. He kisses Castiel’s temple when he sets his plate down.  
“You get the decorations?”  
“Yes, though I forgot decorations for the house.”  
“No problem, we don’t usually decorate it anyways. Hell, we don’t usually decorate the tree even.” Dean bites into his chicken and nods. “Actually, Jess, this ain’t half bad.”  
“I told you, you would like it.”   
“We should decorate the tree when we’re done,” Sam suggests.  
“Yeah, you girls can have fun. I’m gonna watch my show.”  
“Dean, c’mon it’ll be fun. Plus, we can get it done sooner and you can catch your Dr. Sexy M.D. before the credits.” Dean grumbles and shoves a forkful of carrots into his mouth.  
‘Yeah, fine.” Cas smiles and leans into Dean’s shoulder. Dean grins at him around his fork.  
\--  
Castiel and Sam do most of the decorating, the both of them trying to maintain a pattern to the tree while Dean places ornaments in random places and Jess works on untangling the lights. She tests the length from the socket in the wall to make sure the lights will reach as well as wrap around the tree. Castiel winds the tinsel around the tree first, starting at the base and working to the top. He enjoys the way it looks when he steps back. Sam begins with the bulbs, spreading them out so that he can lay small ones between the larger ones. Castiel tries to keep the same pattern.  
When Dean lays the first bow, it is with precision, winging the twist tie around the tree, holding the bow straight as he twists the ends. Dean uses less of a pattern, more lays the bows in the empty spaces, meaning, only one side of the tree has bows when he is finished. He grumbles about it when he is done, but Cas rubs soothing circles on his back and reminds him that it is just a tree. Dean nods and picks at the edge of the box the bows came in. Jess strings the lights, making sure not to overlap and tangle them again. She wraps them the same way the tinsel winds around the tree, making sure not to lay them on top of the tinsel.  
Dean turns on the switch to the lights and they stand back to admire it. Sam turns the living room lights off and chuckles when Dean trips over a box. Dean skips out of the living room and returns with another box in his hands. He opens the lid gingerly and removes an angel. He pushes the angel in Sam’s hands and has him attach the angel to the top of the tree. They stand and they observe, the room quit enough to hear the static from the T.V.   
When they have been standing for a while, Dean clears his throat and moves to the couch, turning on the T.V. Dr. Sexy M.D. is just turning on, and so they pile onto the couches to watch. Castiel curls into Dean’s side for a moment, before he remembers something. Dean asks him where he is going when he slips on his shoes and opens the door. Castiel tells him he needs to grab something, and rushes into the cold winter night, pulling his coat closed around him. He hops across the road, hoping the quicker he moves, the less time he has to spend in the chilly air.  
On Castiel’s porch, next to the fallen panel of his door, is the wreath Castiel made some months ago. The wreath, not necessarily decorated for Christmas, or winter in general, but Castiel does not mind. He grabs it and hops across the Dean’s house. Dean has a nail protruding from his door, perfect for Castiel to hang the wreath on. They might not have lights or blow up Santa, or even faux snow to spray on the windows, but Castiel thinks the wreath fits nicely.  
\--  
The Monday before Christmas, Sam wakes up Dean and Cas with an air horn. Dean flies off the bed, dragging blankets with them. When cold air touches Cas’ skin he realizes he is naked, rolling onto his stomach and grabbing a pillow to cover himself. He can hear Sam laughing behind him and is reminded of his own brother’s hijinks. Gabriel was well known for pranking his family and friends. Castiel burrows his head into the sheets and groans, too tired to move from his place on the bed. Dean scrambles to his feet with the sheet wrapped around himself, when he spots Sam he grumbles and sits at the edge of the bed.   
“What the hell Sam, why the wakeup call?”  
“Jess wants to shop for presents today, figured we all could go out together. Get it done in one day.”   
“Yeah, well you could of just said so. Where’d you get an air horn anyways?”  
“Internet. Hurry up and get dressed, I’m making breakfast.”  
Castiel hears the door shut behind him and pulls his face out from the mattress. Dean’s face is read and he is scowling at the door. His scowl breaks when he yawns and runs a hand through his hair, causing it to stand at an angle. Castiel chuckles and scoots across the bed. He lays his head on Dean’s thigh and presses a kiss there, running a finger across the fine hairs on his thigh. Dean sighs and drops a hand to his hair, combing it between his fingers.  
Castiel scoots closer, keeping on hand on the pillow to cover himself, and lifts high enough to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek. Dean smiles into and rips the pillow from Castiel’s hands. He falls to the mattress and covers himself with his hand. The mattress muffles his complaint but he can hear Dean’s laughter above him growing closer until Dean is peppering Castiel’s back is kisses. Castiel hums at the touch and feels himself falling asleep again.   
Dean runs a hand up Castiel’s back, working at the knots along his spine. His hands are rough at first, but grow gentler the lower he goes. When he palm skims over Castiel’s bottom, Castiel shifts away at the tickle. Dean presses more kisses to his spine, down to his tailbone.  
“You’re beautiful, you know that,” Dean whispers.  
Dean kisses all the skin he can reach, shoulder blades, dips and curves, and muscle. Castiel moans when Dean’s lips press against the soft skin of bottom, hands kneading the muscles of his thigh. His breath catches when Dean’s finger brushes against his hole.  
“Sam said we needed to hurry,” he rushes out.  
“Yeah, well Sam will get over it.”  
“What about Jess?”  
“We can do it in the shower?”  
“Dean,” Castiel does not have a chance to argue when the tip of Dean’s finger presses inside of him. His fingers grip into the sheets and he is sure he stops breathing.   
“In the shower.”  
\--  
Castiel’s fingers grip the shampoo bottle like a life preserver, gripping and releasing as Dean’s tongue works over him. He has never felt Dean’s tongue on him before, not like this, and he loves ever lick and stroke. Castiel nearly drops the bottle, trying to rest it on its shelf, he decides to grip Dean’s shoulders instead. He balances, leaning his weight on Dean as he licks a strip along his shaft. Castiel moans audibly when Dean takes his head into his mouth and licks against the tip.   
Dean sucks, cheeks hollowing, making sounds Castiel knows are downright sinful. His breath is shallow and he knows he is close but he does not want to give up the feeling, does not want Dean to stop. Dean licks at the tip again and groans as he swallows him down again. Castiel’s hips snap and Dean pushes them against the shower wall, stilling him. Dean works faster, and Castiel grips tighter, fighting the urge to snap his hips in time with Dean’s mouth. His moans fill the shower, echoing off the tile walls. Castiel’s knees shake when he comes, Dean holds him up, drinking every drop until he is empty.   
When Castiel opens his eyes again, Dean is looking up at him with a smirk on his face. Dean told him he would enjoy it, and he was right. Castiel works his hand through Dean’s hair and tries to catch his breath. Dean rubs the sides of his thighs and stands, pressing close to him. He kisses Castiel and moves them both under the spray of water. Castiel realizes when Dean is opening the shampoo bottle that he should reciprocate is some way, but Dean hushes him and works the shampoo through his hair. He tells Castiel he can return the favor later if he wants.   
Sam gives them both accusatory glances when they stumble into the kitchen. Plates of eggs and toast are on the table; Sam and Jess have both finished theirs and are drinking orange juice. Castiel thanks Sam and sits at the table, eating his breakfast quickly. Dean sits next to him and eats his toast, looking between Sam and Jess who are both wearing smirks. Castiel stops shoveling food in his mouth to give them his attention.  
“What?” Dean finally asks.  
“These walls aren’t sound proof you know.” Sam quickly replies. Castiel can feel red creeping up his neck, over his cheeks, to the tips of his ears.  
“You didn’t complain last night.”  
“I was asleep last night, unconscious, not paying attention. I was very much conscious this morning when you decided to have happy fun times in the bathroom.”  
Castiel can see a blush creeping up Dean’s neck.  
“Yeah, well, it’s my house,” he says, and shovels eggs into his mouth.  
“Just, no more early morning specials, please.” Sam rinses his cup in the sink and takes his seat next to Jess.   
“Yeah, sure.” Dean washes his toast down with his orange juice. “So, we ready to head out?”  
Castiel places his dishes in the sink and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “I ready.”  
\--  
Sam and Castiel wonder around the mall together. Sam suggested they should go together, while Dean goes with Jess, so they can pick out present for each other without ruining the surprise. Jess teased Dean about having to be stuck with him all day, but she elbowed him in the rib and pulled him in the opposite direction. Castiel is glad he can shop with Sam; it allows him a better opportunity to ask for gift advice. Castiel knows Dean enjoys cars and classic rock, but Sam knows the specifics on Dean, has gauged the rights and wrongs from years of living with Dean.   
Sam wants to buy Jess her present first, says it will be easier to get it over with first, and then Sam and Cas can get their presents together. Sam wants to buy Jess a perfume she has been wanting for ages, but could never seem to save up enough to buy. Sam says it has a nice scent, or else he would not venture through cosmetics and women spraying him with various scents just to buy it. Castiel feels like he is walking through a battleground as women in bright lipstick and thick eye shadow push products towards him.   
Sam quickly grabs the tester and sprays it on his coat sleeve to smell it. He nods at Castiel who is standing in the isle way, between racks of women’s lingerie. He can feel the heat rising on his cheeks and urges Sam to hurry. Sam does not want to spend as much time in the shop himself and rushes to the counter, slapping his credit card down. The woman smiles at him and offers to wrap the box for him free. Neither Sam nor Cas want to stay in the store longer, but Sam figures the woman would do a better job than he would, so Castiel endures a few more minutes of women passing accusing glances.  
Castiel remembers being a child while his mother would walk through the mall and point at the store they were not allowed to venture into, this being one on the list. He feels rebellious, more so than he did in the shower that morning. Even with the adrenaline rushing through him, he still feels the nerves telling him to get out of the store right away. He may be an adult, but he does not want to stand between racks of woman’s undergarments longer than he has to. Luckily, the woman finishes wrapping the present and Sam pushes them both out of the store. Sam takes a deep breath and nods in Castiel’s direction, exhales and walks in the direction of the next store.  
Jess has been complaining about the state of their kitchenware for weeks so Sam thinks he should stop in Sears and check for kitchen appliances. Castiel is as clueless as Sam to which direction to go so they wander around the store for a few minutes, keeping their attention on signs for the store. They both figure, with it being a larger brand, it will stick out and grab their attention better than most of them. Proven right, a large sign glows at a far wall of the mall and they both walk towards it.  
Sam finds a set of non-stick pans and holds them up for Castiel’s approval. Castiel nods and turns his attention to a coffee maker. Dean has been waking up early in the mornings, making Castiel coffee and breakfast. Castiel feels bad sleeping in all the time, especially with the state of Dean’s coffee maker. He rolls his finger over the price and thinks he can afford it, but wonders if it is something Dean would want. Sam joins him, his shoulder rubbing against Castiel’s as he reads the box.  
“This is a pretty good brand. It does a lot too, are you gonna get it?”  
“I’m not sure,” he pauses and bites at his nail. “Do you think Dean would like it?”  
“Knowing him, he would think its lame at first, but the first time he uses it he’ll become a coffee addict and you’ll have to take him to recovery meetings,” Sam laughs.  
Castiel pulls the box from the shelf and holds it in his hands, gauging its worth.  
“Trust me, he’ll love it. Especially when he has his first hangover after New Years.”  
Castiel nods and tucks the box under his arm, making sure not to drop it. Sam finds a set of spatulas and ladles, the kind the scrape eggs from the pan just right, leaving the yoke intact. He finds a mixer and has to fight the urge not to grab it until he reads the price. He scoffs and continues moving through the store. While they are ringing up their items, Sam begins to worry.  
“Do you think Jess is going to be upset if I just give her a bunch of cooking utensils?”  
“Has she requested anything else she wants for the holiday?”  
“Not really, well, she wants a dog but I wanted to wait until we get a real place together. I don’t think pets are allowed in our apartment.”  
“Jess enjoys cooking, I’m sure she will be happy to have better equipment. Also, you braved through the battle of smells to get her that perfume.”  
“True. I just don’t want to mess this up, you know.” Castiel nods.  
Sam and Castiel move through the mall searching for a store to find Dean’s present. Many of the stores cater more to women so they have a tough time finding one to suit him. On their way, Sam looks through an electronics store. He eyes the phones and laptops like a kid at a candy shop and Castiel knows what he wants to give Sam. He will have to come back at a different time, though.   
Sam navigates them through a few more stores and stops at a few to pick up some smaller gifts for Jess, things she has mentioned wanting but never bought herself. They finally find a store that Sam thinks will have something Dean will like. Sam finds a necklace, a face with horns that Sam says Dean will like. He picks out a few other items for Dean. Cas wanders around the store looking for something to catch his eye and shout Dean at him, but he just cannot figure it out. He tries to think Dean’s likes, but there are few. He settles on a toolbox, brand new silver equipment, until he can find a better gift.   
Sam approves of the gift choice, says Dean will appreciate it. He can use it to fix up the Impala when he needs to. On the way out of the store, Sam stumbles upon a shirt that makes him laugh and forces Cas to buy it for Dean. Castiel is unsure of how the phrase ‘posse magnet’ is supposed to be humorous, but buys it anyways. Sam is still laughing when they run into Dean and Jess, who are holding their bags out of sight, not that they can see in them anyways. Dean asks what is funny and Sam brushes him off saying they should get lunch.  
\--  
Sam and Dean stay up late on Christmas Eve. They drink and reminisce on their childhood and Castiel misses his family. He enjoys the company he has, but would not mind if Gabe could fly in for the holiday. After Halloween, Gabe started seeing a woman, Kali, and promised to meet her parents on Christmas. He apologizes profusely on Christmas Eve, calling Dean’s home phone every few minutes to tell him, again, how sorry he is. Castiel ushers him off the phone with a string of ‘I understand,’ and ‘things come up’. Castiel is still nervous to contact his other siblings, decides it better to wait until after the holidays to inform them that their younger brother has quit attending church and will be moving in with his boyfriend in the summer.   
Castiel is the first to wake on Christmas, the others drinking until late into the night. He slips on a pair of Dean’s sweatpants and a sweater before trudging down the steps. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and holds the coffee pot under the sink, filling it with water. Castiel presses the on button and waits for the coffee to brew, only to have water leak from the side of the machine, working its way to the edge of the counter. He quickly presses the off button, but the machine continues to leak so Castiel unplugs it. He grabs a towel and begins wiping up the mess.  
Castiel decides on making hot chocolate, enough cups for the household rest on the kitchen table when he is finished. Castiel turns on the burner of the stove and cracks eggs into the pan, watching them solidify before he flips them. He is able to make a few pancakes before Dean slides along the kitchen floor in a pair of socks. He holds his head and leaves a sloppy kiss on Castiel’s shoulder. He rests his head on Castiel’s back and wraps his arms around his waist.  
“Coffee?”  
“Machines broke, there’s chocolate.”  
“Not the same,” Dean grumbles and squeezes tighter.   
Castiel moves around the kitchen with Dean attached to his waist, groaning every time he takes a step. When he suggest Dean sit instead of clinging and whining, Dean kisses his neck and tells him he’s feeling affectionate and warns Castiel before he can tease him. Castiel finishes breakfast and sets the plates on the table, but Dean is still attached to him when he tries to sit down. He carries his and Dean’s plate to the living room, setting Dean’s on the coffee table, and sits on the couch. Dean curls into his lap and lays there while he eats, Castiel tells Dean he should too but he just mumbles and falls asleep again.  
Sam and Jess saunter down the steps in the same state, both groaning at the lack of coffee, but thankful for the breakfast. Sam offers to wash the dishes while Jess sets the DVD up to play a Christmas movie, something Castiel has never seen before. They settle on the couch after eating, neither in a hurry to open the presents under the tree. Sam, lazily, pulls boxes from the floor and begins shuffling the ones that belong to Jess in her direction. They pile onto her lap and she tries to decide which to open first, she opts for the small ones.  
Sam offers Castiel his, but Dean is still in his lap. He pokes at Dean’s cheek but gets to response, so he slides a hand under Dean’s shirt and tickles at his ribs. Dean shoots off the couch and onto the floor with a groan, Sam and Cas laugh at him. Dean sits back onto the couch and leans his head against the back of it willing his headache to go away. Castiel pushes painkillers and a glass of water into his hands and walks to the tree, retrieving their presents, while Sam opens his own.  
“No way,” Castiel hears Sam mutter to himself as he opens his. Sam is holding an iPad in his lap and opening the box to reveal the product, covered in plastic he is unwilling to remove.  
Castiel returns to his place on the couch and leaves Dean’s presents on the coffee table for him.  
“Cas, I think I might have you move in with me instead.” Sam says, still staring at the ipad. Cas laughs and begins tearing the wrapping from his own presents.   
The first he opens is a cell phone, fancier than the one he owns. He opens the box and begins reading the instruction manual before turning it on. Dean peaks open an eye in his direction and rests his head on Cas’ chest.  
“I got us on a plan. You can text me at work and we can video chat on breaks. That way, if you have to work late again we can keep in contact. And,” he slides the screen and pulls up an app. “You can download books on it.” He shuts the app and pulls up the camera. Before Castiel can turn away, he snaps one of the two of them, who look like a sad pair in Castiel’s opinion, both barely awake. Castiel sets the picture as his background after figuring it out.  
Dean moves to his own presents. He kisses Cas again when he opens to coffee maker, relieved to have coffee on Christmas. He laughs when he pulls the t-shirt from its box, pulling the one he slept in off, to replace it. He kisses Cas again, more deeply this time. Castiel would be embarrassed if Sam and Jess were not doing the same. He rubs a palm over the stubble on Dean’s jaw.   
“Merry Christmas, Cas.”  
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”


	10. Home is Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where is home?  
> Is it caught in a lover's charm  
> Taught in my father's lies  
> Where is home?  
> Fall from the highest star  
> Called from another's heart  
> Where is home?  
> Ooh, ooh  
> Home is here  
> -Kimbra

Castiel stands in his kitchen, his once luxurious oven replaced by the grease stained shell of an appliance from Dean’s home. The property owner may have a problem with it later, but for now, Castiel does not care. He moves boxes into the kitchen, filling them with plates and cups, wrapping them in newspaper to keep them from breaking during the short move. Castiel hates to waste tape on these boxes, considering the short distance they will travel, but it is to ensure they stay safe. When a box is filled, he slides it into the living room, barren of furniture, except for the bookshelf and a few stands. Dean or Sam will collect each box and carry them across the street while Jess begins unpacking them.   
Castiel was unsure of what to do with his furniture at first, he thought of renting a storage unit to keep them in. When Sam and Jess mentioned they were finally going to have a real space together while they attended law school, Cas offered them his furniture. Dean keeps the smaller tables in his basement and the larger pieces, covered, in the garage until Sam and Jess can move them. All except the bed and bookshelf, Castiel threw the mattress in the trash and donated the frame to a thrift store. He plans of keeping the shelf for his collection of books, growing each time Dean takes a trip to the store finds something that catches his eye.  
Castiel cleans the refrigerator; throwing leftovers in the trash, keeping bottles of salad dressing that have yet to be used, along with other foods that are still good. He wipes the fridge clean of spills and stains, then moves to the cabinets, setting aside canned goods and boxes of cereal. Most of the cereal is Dean’s that Cas bought for days Dean would stay over and need a quick breakfast. Most of them are empty so he tosses them in the garbage as well. When the furniture and utensils are cleared, Castiel sweeps and mops the floor. He vacuums the other rooms as well. He wonders if he should re-paint the walls white, but Dean tells him the next owners can take care of that.   
Once Castiel’s house is cleared of his possessions, Dean and Cas work on unpacking, while Sam and Jess take a trip to a local pool to cool off. They have been working hard, and Castiel feels bad having them assist in the move when they are on vacation. Castiel replaces Dean’s chipped and cracked plates with his own, they keep anything that still looks new. Dean re-stocks his refrigerator and cabinets with the foods from Castiel’s house, scoffing at the salad dressing like it has offended him. Castiel chuckles, shakes his head, and continues unpacking boxes.  
Dean clears a few of his drawers and half of his closet for Castiel. Their clothes have become a mix already though, from Castiel spending nights at Dean’s house and forgetting socks and sweaters, and Dean doing the same. He shrugs his shoulders and begins laying out his clothing anyways. Dean helps by hanging his dress shirts and pants in the closet, being careful not to wrinkle them. Dean laughs when he picks up Castiel’s trench coat, telling him he needs a new coat for the winter, something thicker to keep him warm. When Castiel remarks that Dean’s leather jacket will not match his office clothes, Dean nods and hangs the coat.  
“You’d look good in it anyways,” he says, kissing Castiel’s cheek before he leaves the room.  
When Castiel is finished folding his clothes and placing his toiletries in Dean’s, much bigger, bathroom, Castiel finds most of his photos are lining Dean’s tables. They are pictures of Castiel when he was a child; some with his family, some with Dean, and others are pictures Dean took of him, catching him off guard. Castiel runs a finger over the frames and smiles to himself. Castiel holds one in his hand and wipes the dust off with the edge of his shirt.   
Dean begins cooking; Castiel can smell eggs frying and toast burning. He slides the picture frame back on the shelf and walks into the kitchen. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and kisses the back of his neck. Dean hums and flips an egg in the pan. He scrapes them onto a plate and pulls toast from the toaster, buttering it with Castiel attached to him. He laughs while he pours them both orange juice and sets them on the table. Castiel slides into his seat.  
“You made eggs for lunch?”  
“Yeah, we had extra from your place so I figured I would use ‘em.”   
Castiel nods and begins eating.   
“We still need a place for the bookshelf. Do you know what we’re going to do with the extra T.V.?”  
“I think I might clear out a spot in the basement, make like a study for you down there. We can go to the hardware store, get some carpeting, all that stuff.” Dean says between bites. “We can give the T.V. to Sam, an early birthday present. He’s got a shit box for one anyways.”  
“The basements lonely, I’d be alone down there I mean. Just me and my books.’  
“Then I’ll put the T.V. down there, we can make it our get away, how does that sound?” Castiel smiles as he dips his toast in his yoke.  
“That’s nice, actually.” Dean smirks and bites into his toast.   
Sam and Jess return, walking into the kitchen with sunburns.   
“We can make Sammy do all the work, too.” Dean laughs.  
Sam raises an eyebrow in confusion but Castiel waves him off and tells him not to worry about it.  
\--  
Dean and Castiel start their seeds in small pots, leaving them at the windowsill to get light. They are growing flowers delphiniums and brunneras, the ones Dean gave Cas some time back. The plants are complicated, not what Castiel or Dean is used too and they both struggle. Dean becomes overwhelmed just reading about them in the book he gave Castiel. They both decide small steps are best, they will begin them both in small pots, and if they do not take, they can find different ones to plant at the hardware store.   
Dean softens a patch of soil in the backyard for a garden; they still have not decided what they want to plant. Jess says they should plant tomatoes again, but offers no suggestions on what else. Sam does research, finds out that peppers and squash, as well as tomatoes, produce throughout the season and would be their best option for growing. If they grow too many, they can offer some to the neighbors, Castiel thinks. Jess offers to drive to the hardware store with Castiel to pick up the plants.   
Castiel’s small pots are being used for the flowers, so they decide to go with some that have already begun growing. They make Castiel’s task easier, taking the task of growing them from a seedling off his hands. Jess excitedly carries the vegetables into the backyard when they return and Castiel follows her. Dean is standing over the garden, shirtless, wiping the sweat from his brow. Castiel’s eyes rake over him and he blushes when Dean catches his eye and smirks.   
Jess lays the plants on one side of the garden and begins measuring out spaces, placing one plant over its space. Castiel lets Dean take a break while he digs holes for each vegetable. When he is done, he has three neat rows of three for each plant. He is positive he will grow more than he can use, but now he will have an excuse to talk to his neighbors. Dean comes back outside, showered with a new shirt on. Castiel guides him as he begins placing the plants in the soil. When they are finished, Jess waters them with a new watering can she bought Castiel. There is a sunflower painted on the side with a grin that makes Castiel laugh when he sees it.   
Sam makes them sandwiches while they work and calls them in when he is finished. Sam has been searching for a new place for Sam and Jess to call home as well as making final adjustments for their wedding. They want to wait, save up enough money before they exchange rings, so Sam decided to research costs, plugging in figures according to their personal desires. They want something small, being that their family is small, and with the furniture donation from Castiel Sam is sure they will be able to save up enough in the next year. Dean promises to pay off any debts they cannot afford, but Sam wants to do this on his own, says Dean has already done too much.   
Castiel pulls tea from the fridge and pours glasses for everyone, setting them at the table. Dean practically inhales his sandwich and complains about the lack of mayonnaise when he is done. Sam pulls a face at him and puts his plate in the sink. He announces an official date for his and Jess’ wedding and Dean says they need to celebrate, a party on the weekend when he does not have to wake up for work the next day.   
\--   
Sam takes Jess to a park, so Dean and Cas take advantage of the empty living room. They watch re-runs of Dr. Sexy and Dean complains about the current love-triangle taking place in the show. During the episode that Dr. Sexy is shot, Castiel catches Dean wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Castiel pulls his head on his lap and runs a hand absently through his hair. Dean says they should watch something else but Castiel keeps the remote out of reach. Dean tries to wrestle him for it, throwing them both off the couch with a thud.   
Castiel groans when he hits the floor and again when Dean grinds against him. While he is distracted, Dean pulls the remote from his hand and flips to another channel with a show about cars. Dean helps him to his feet and Castiel sinks into the couch. Dean smirks at him and holds the remote in the air when Castiel makes a grab at it. So Castiel plays dirty back, he rubs the heel of his palm against Dean who inhales sharply but only tightens his grip on the remote. His arm threatens to fall when Castiel licks a stripe up his neck and bites on his ear lobe but he still cannot get the remote back. Dean snickers and holds the remote under his arm, watching the show.  
Castiel nods and slinks in the couch for a moment. He squints at the television and tries to make sense of the car chat, but gives up after a few moments. Everything is about engines, mufflers and tools, things Castiel knows nothing about. He sighs and stands in front of the T.V., which gets a complaint from Dean. He pulls his shirt over his head and brushes his hair to one side with his fingers. Dean’s jaw drops and he throws his shirt over his shoulder and walks up the stairs to the bathroom. He figures a mid-afternoon shower will feel nice after working on the garden all day.  
Castiel hardly makes it to the threshold of the bathroom when Dean pulls him against his chest and carries him into the bedroom. Dean has his arms pinned against his chest and all he can do is hope Dean does not drop him. Dean does, he flops him onto the bed and climbs over him, gripping his calves and sliding Castiel against him. Dean grinds against him once and nips at his neck. Castiel tries to wriggle away, he needs to shower and Dean is distracting him.  
“I think you’re the one that distracted me,” Dean nearly growls in his ear.   
Castiel whimpers when Dean slips his fingers below the waistband of his pants and grips him through his boxers. He kisses a line down Castiel’s neck. His grip releases and he removes his hands, kneeling over Castiel. Castiel feels cold in all the places Dean’s hands were and wants them back, but Dean is wearing a face that makes him squirm.  
“What, Dean?” His voice is debauched so he clears his throat.  
“You just, you’re beautiful.” Castiel nods and Dean slides his hands up his chest, works a nipple under his finger. Castiel tries to remain still but Dean makes it difficult.  
“So are you,” he whispers, circling his fingers around Dean’s wrist. Dean catches one and presses a kiss to his palm.  
Dean slides his own shirt off, tossing it to the floor. He unbuttons Castiel’s pants, sliding them below his hips, revealing pale skin. When Dean catches his eye, Castiel swallows hard because Dean still has a look that he cannot place. Dean shucks his own pants off and throws them on top of Castiel’s. Castiel slides up the bed until his head is resting on a pillow and cradles Dean between his legs.   
Dean kisses his skin, all the places he can reach from his forehead to his toes and Castiel feels his skin light on fire. Every place Dean’s lips touch is a new itch he needs to scratch. Dean keeps his touches gentle and the fire ignites through Castiel’s veins. Dean’s never this gentle, not usually, his first time Dean was this gentle. Castiel grips into the bedspread and widens his legs when Dean presses kisses into his hips. Dean’ palms smooth over his thighs, warming his skin.   
Dean pulls his and Castiel’s boxers off, letting them slip off the bed and reaches in the night stand for the lube. Castiel can hear scraps of paper sliding around and makes a mental note to throw them away at some point. They are old letters, papers he does not need anymore, now that he has Dean. Castiel waits for Dean to press a finger against him when he hears the cap snap and is surprised when something cool slides over his fingers. Dean smoothes the liquid over them and angels himself over Castiel.   
Castiel presses a finger in, Dean bucks at the touch and ushers Castiel to keep moving so he does. He slides a finger in and out until Dean asks for another, repeating the process. Dean teaches him through whispered words, lost in the pillow covers. Dean moans against his skin, sending shivers up Castiel’s spine. Every gasp and movement makes the heat rise under Castiel’s skin, eager fingers sliding in and out.  
Dean pulls Castiel’s hand away, but Castiel lubes himself. Dean shifts back until his is positioned above Castiel and Castiel presses in, a feeling that makes him groan and grip Dean’s hips. Dean eases himself until Castiel is fully sheathed. Dean continues to kiss Castiel’s skin as he works himself, setting a slow rhythm. Castiel’s eyes fight to stay open as he gives into the sensations, curling his toes with each slide inside of Dean. Castiel wants to come but Dean’s pace is still so slow, teasing him with each clench as Dean pulls up, threatening to let Castiel slide out. When Castiel cannot take the teasing, he grips Dean’s hips, still him, and pumps himself to completion. Dean comes shortly after and they lay in bed until they catch their breath.   
\--  
During the week, Castiel and Dean begin work on the basement. Castiel moves the furniture to the living room so they can paint. Dean says they should use a manly color but Castiel settles for a warm, neutral color. Dean complains at first, but concedes when they begin painting. They paint everything except for the room that houses the washer and dryer. The process takes longer than either anticipated so the extra furniture takes up space in the living room until they can get the flooring done.  
Dean and Cas argue over what to do about the floor. Dean wants carpeting, something shaggy and soft that he can walk on, but Castiel worries about it being ruined if they have a leak. Dean rolls his eyes and pouts because Castiel has a good point. They both decide against wood floors for the same reason. The last thing they want is mold growing. In the end, they get tile, a design Dean picks out. Castiel thinks it looks ridiculous laid out against the color of the wall, but Dean likes it so he deals.   
Cas decorates while Dean marathons a show with Sam and Jess, something about a serial killer that Cas is sure will give him nightmares. Instead, he places his bookshelf and begins organizing his books that have been sitting in their boxes since he moved it. He is exhausted by the time he is done, but Dean is still watching the creepy show, so he tries to rearrange the furniture. He moves two chairs to a corner, with a table between them and plugs in a lamp. He moves his desk to a good spot and decides to wait before fiddling with wires and extension cords.  
Castiel pushes Dean’s recliner to the middle of the floor, where it can sit in front of his T.V. Castiel has no idea how to set it up, so he does not bother with that either. When he is finished, the room seems bare, the furniture is minimal but it suits their purpose he supposes. Castiel arranges pencil cases and other accessories on his desk and stands back to admire it. He is proud of his handy work and happy to have a place to escape to with Dean. He relaxes in Dean’s recliner with one of the books Dean bought him and plans to read for most of the night, or until Dean stops watching scary shows.  
Castiel feels settled, at home. Across the street was his home, but across the street was empty, a too big house in a too big town. Now Castiel has Dean, and Dean fills the empty places between his ribs and drowns him in warmth. Castiel can settle in the woodwork and rest easy when he has Dean to curl against at night. He can wake up and not have to worry about missing Dean before work because Dean will kiss him when the sun rises. Dean takes off his coat and rubs his back when he has a long day at work and Castiel will return the favor when Castiel comes home late from the garage.   
Dean puts too much garlic in the spaghetti when he makes dinner and always burns the garlic bread. Dean forgets to wash the dishes most nights, but makes it up to Castiel by rubbing his feet when Castiel has washed them all. Dean knows when Castiel is working too hard and shuts the computer off for him and carries him to bed. He calls Castiel’s boss when Castiel is too sick to get out of bed. All things Dean did before they lived together.  
Now, Castiel does not have to worry about his sheets being too cold at night because Dean does not want to wake him in the early mornings. Dean will slide under the sheets and slide in close, when he does wake Castiel he will coo him to sleep. Dean is there when Castiel reads in the basement and when he watches T.V. on the couch. They buy groceries together and find items for the house together. Castiel does not feel empty, how can he when he has Dean.  
\--  
Dean comes home with cases of beer on Friday night, tells Sam and Jess to prepare for a night of fun. Sam groans at the sight, they have been drinking almost every weekend since he came down for the summer but this is supposed to be a celebration for finally picking a date for their wedding. Dean leaves the cases in the fridge and starts ordering pizzas. Jess complains about the beers, says they should be having real drinks for such a special occasion. Dean lifts and eyebrow and tosses his keys to Sam, tells him to pick up some ‘real’ drinks.  
In time, the house is filled with drunken members of Sam and Dean’s family. The only one still sober is Jo and that is because Ellen watches her like a hawk. Bobby sits in the kitchen playing a card game with a friend of his, Rufus. He grumbles about Rufus cheating when he loses a round for the third time in a row. Castiel laughs and pulls another beer from the fridge, handing it to Bobby and his friend.   
Ellen is in the back yard admiring the garden with Jo, who is trying to walk away from her, small steps at a time. She makes it to the doorframe of the kitchen and asks Jess to distract Ellen while she pours herself a drink. Ash swings around her, grabbing her shot glass and downs it in a swallow. She growls and begins pouring another, only to have Dean steal that one. He smiles and drops the glass in front of her. He ruffles her hair and turns his attention to Castiel, who is picking the toppings off his pizza and eating them.  
Dean picks up a slice for himself and begins to eat; dropping toppings on the floor, that Castiel will have to clean later. A few of Sam’s friends from high school are taking shots at the counter beside Jo, who is cradling a beer now. She flips Dean off and moves into the living room to watch a sci-fi movie with a few others. Castiel laughs at Dean, who shoves another bite of pizza into his mouth, spilling sauce on his pants. Castiel laughs again and starts wiping up the mess with a paper towel. Dean grumbles something about not being a kid but Castiel cleans the mess anyways.  
Most of the party cleans out around midnight, leaving a few stragglers. Ash is asleep on the living room floor and no one can be bothered to wake him up. Jo is laying next to him half-awake, half-mumbling about vodka and pizza not sitting well. She falls asleep when Castiel tosses a blanket over her. He mentally prepares for the whining and grumbling he will have to deal with in the morning.   
Sam carries Jess to bed, and Castiel worries about him slipping and falling until he is safe in the spare bedroom. Dean sits on the couch watching a discovery channel documentary while Castiel cleans cups, boxes, and paper plates. A stack of shot glasses are in the sink, he sighs before he begins cleaning. Dean keeps telling him to leave them for the morning but Castiel has already motivated himself.   
He is wiping down a counter when Dean gets off the couch starts pulling him away from the kitchen. He leaves sloppy kisses on Castiel’s neck that make him giggle, and Castiel tries to finish cleaning, not wanting to deal with the mess in the morning. Dean pulls at the waist of his pants and tugs him away from the counter. Castiel drops his washrag in the sink and lets Dean cradle him in his arms. Dean is humming the tune of a song off key and Castiel fights the urge to laugh at him again.   
“I’m sleepy,” Dean murmurs into his chest.   
“So go to sleep. I’ll be done soon, promise.” He pushes Dean in the direction of the stairs.  
“No, come with me, come tuck me in,” Dean pulls him close again.   
Castiel gives up the fight and flicks the light to the kitchen off. Dean tries to lead the way but gives up when he trips over his own feet. Castiel half-carries him up the stairs to their bedroom and drops Dean onto the bed. When he threatens to fall asleep in the middle, Castiel shakes his sides and tells him to take off his pants. Dean is too out of it though, so Castiel moves him to a sitting position and takes his shirt off, lays him down and takes his pants off. He moves the sheets over them both and curls into Dean’s side. Dean kisses the top of his forehead and wraps an arm over him.  
“We should get married someday,” Dean slurs into his hairline.   
Castiel feels his body tense; he has thought the same but never voiced his opinion, afraid of it being too soon. He wants to; he wants Dean in his entirety. Dean shifts again and Castiel lays his head on his chest.  
“This better not be your proposal Dean.”  
“No, but, someday,” Dean’s eyes drift close and he falls asleep in Castiel’s arms.  
\--  
Castiel does not mention last night, brushes it off as Dean being tired and drunk. He does not bring it up again, just goes about his routines. He wakes up and makes coffee for everyone, even Ash and Jo. They eat cereal while Castiel tends to the garden, pulls small sprouts of weeds before they can grow any further. The vegetables are nubs of life just pushing the surface, reaching for the sky. Castiel rubs the leaves between his fingers, enjoys knowing that he is creating life.   
Dean joins him later, sits in the dirt and squints at the sun before pulling on a pair of sunglasses. He looks ridiculous, Castiel thinks, poking a finger into the soil and tracing patterns. Castiel watches a moment, forgetting his task. He is still tired, thinks he will take a nap later. Dean flicks a speck of dirt from beneath his nail and pulls at a strand of grass. Castiel pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture before Dean can grumble about it. Dean’s freckles stand out in the sun and Castiel is glad to get a picture of it.   
Dean stands in a hurry when water begins to run through the dirt, quenching the soils thirst. Castiel laughs and moves across the rows of plants, being sure not to drown the plants. Dean dips his foot in the mud and wipes it off in the grass, he reminds Castiel of a child, making more of a mess than he is helping. Castiel turns on the hose and rinses off Dean’s feet before letting him into the house, Dean complains about the water being too cold and bounces on his toes in the kitchen. Jo laughs at him and grabs her head when it hurts again, Dean laughs at her in return.   
Castiel offers to drive Jo and Ash home while the others nurse hangovers. Ellen and Bobby came in the same car so they have no other way home unless they walk. When they get to Ellen’s, Castiel tells them they should visit more. Jo has to work at the Roadhouse along with Ash, but they promise to visit when their schedules are clear. Castiel drives home with the windows down and hums the tune of one of Dean’s favorite songs. The sun is shining and he thinks of what he should do with his day when he is not babysitting complaining adults.  
\--  
When the flowers begin to sprout, Dean softens the soil around the front of his house. He thinks the flowers will look better lining the porch and Castiel agrees. He plants the brunneras first, one of each side of the porch steps, and one on each end of the porch. They leave the delphiniums for in between. Castiel thinks they will look nice when they are in full bloom. He is still annoyed by the plants difficulties but continues to follow the instructions thoroughly. Unlike the pumpkin mishap, he plans of getting this right.   
Dean watches while Castiel works, still uncertain of the instructions, but does not question Castiel. He picks at the grass and twiddles pieces between his fingers. Occasionally, Castiel will wave him over, point out what he is doing, and show Dean. Dean always nods like he understands but his face always reads different. Castiel just laughs and scoots Dean out of the way to continue. When he is finished, Dean claps him on the back and takes in the view. The plants are sprouts, barely noticeable from a distance, but Dean still calls them beautiful. He kisses Cas and calls him beautiful.  
That night, Dean makes dinner, or rather orders dinner. He gets cheeseburgers from Ellen’s, the ones that melt cheese all over Castiel’s fingers. He savors each bite and groans when Dean pulls out pie, because Dean can always seem to eat and eat more. Sam calls it a case of hollow leg syndrome, says Dean does not digest, it all just falls through and he stores it. Dean laughs and shovels pie into his mouth. Dean remembers the wash the dishes and even cleans the rest of the kitchen while Castiel plays a card game with Sam and Jess. He is not doing very well and is thankful when Dean pulls him away.  
As they climb the stairs, Sam and Jess say their goodnights but neither makes a move towards their room. Castiel and Dean change quietly, neither having anything to say, just comfortable silence. Castiel takes his place beneath the covers, sinking into the spot carved into the mattress, the spot just for him. When Dean’s arm curls around him and holds him close, Castiel knows who he is and who he wants to be. When Dean’s fingers slide between his, Castiel knows he has found his place and carved his own spot, here in Dean’s mattress.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [My Brother the Star](https://archiveofourown.org/works/954249) by [Kaoru250](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru250/pseuds/Kaoru250)




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